Harry Potter and the Foreign Magic
by La Morraine
Summary: Harry's sixth year is anything but calm: another fraud as DADA teacher, Umbridge on the loose, Voldemort wants revenge, new friends and allies come forth. The Malfoys behave strangely and Wiccans prowl Hogwarts ... SLASH HP/LM/DM, SB/RL, Veela!Malfoys
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the Foreign Magic**

**- Chapter 1 -**

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**Disclaimer**: Harry Potter in its entirety (meaning all characters, locations and plot) belongs to J. K. Rowling, Warner and other publishers. Since Warner is prohibiting the use of titles like "Harry Potter and …" I'm _expressly_ telling you that the wording of the title is _not mine_, but I'm using it to keep the flair of the Harry Potter books alive. The idea for this fanfiction is my own, however, as are all the OCs. I borrowed the Veela idea from frizzy (I asked before she didn't want to permit others to use it, by the way.) and am eternally grateful to be able to write this story.

And last but not least: I'm making NO MONEY with this fic. I'm just a poor student. Everybody knows I'm not J. K. Rowling anyway, so who would publish me? Don't sue me please.

**Warnings**: In this story Sirius Black will be alive. I hate the fact that he's dead. I also need him for certain things so don't be affronted. I will try to keep my story not AU, but please kindly overlook if I sometimes have to bend the universe a bit …

I also strongly warn you about the huge amount of fluff and sweetness. I will try to put some angst into it (given that the 5th book was so gloomy), but I just love stories where Harry and Lucius are playing fairly nice.

The next thing is … THREESOME ALERT! Some might be squicked by it but I like the idea of Harry with two strong, beautiful men … So, _don't like, don't read._

This is also Hermione/Snape. Beware. And I very much do Pansy-bashing. (Huh, I have a lot of warnings for this story, haven't I?)

**A.N.:** And last but not least the time line of this story will follow our darlings the last two school years. You will get a glimpse of Harry's life with the Dursleys, relationships, mooning, Veelas, and last, but not least, school.

**LAST WARNING!** This REALLY is a LONGTERM fiction which means it will be LONG and DETAILED. The SLASH will follow later. I like to build the plot. Also I'm not a fast writer and will most likely keep you waiting for the next update. This fic was on hiatus for two year or so. I only now get back into writing it after recovering from the trauma I developed after reading the 7th book. I was not amused. Hopefully you 'll stay tuned anyway. I think it is worth the wait ;-)

I hope very much that you'll enjoy this piece of writing and tell me what you think. :-)

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When Harry arrived at King's Cross station he was not a happy camper. He was pissed at Malfoy for his stupid, childish behaviour and he couldn't bear his friends who were so awfully _happy_ when Sirius had nearly _died_. That damned hex had hit him right in the chest, and he was lucky that he didn't fall into the arch with that cursed veil on it. Dumbledore told him how narrow Sirius' escape had been, and how strong his luck was.

Well, his godfather was still hidden in the hospital wing, recovering. Despite his hate for Bellatrix, Harry had to admit that the blasted woman was strong and dangerous. Sirius and Harry had a nice, long talk about everything, and Harry learned that there was a mirror in the package Sirius had given him; a mirror to talk with the person who possessed the mirror's twin, that is, Sirius.

Harry's own stupidity at not looking first at what Sirius had given him branded him deeply. Those mirrors would have been absolutely safe then to communicate with each other and to make sure Sirius was alright and not doing something stupid. But they would be absolutely safe now; and that nobody else than Ron and Hermione knew of them was an added bonus.

And that was what he planned to do all summer. Talk to his beloved godfather through the mirrors, while he pretended to ignore his relatives who most likely would make his summer holiday a living hell - again.

He was a little surprised to see the whole family waiting for him at the station. Even Aunt Petunia was there.

Harry grinned. He knew what would follow, and sure enough Moody and his other friends had a nice, little chat with the Dursleys. Well, if you could call Moody's outright threatening that. At least Harry now had something to hold on to. He could always alert Sirius if something was wrong, and then there were the rest of the Order. If he failed to write them they would show up. And knowing some of the younger members of the Order, Harry felt sure they would show up anyway.

So Harry said goodbye to his friends, promised to write a lot and keep in touch with the rest of them. Then he happily dragged his trunk (on which Remus had cast a Featherweight Spell that would wear off in a few hours' time) and followed his relatives out of the station.

Maybe this summer wouldn't be that bad …

-----

"_Boy_! Come down here and cook breakfast for my precious Dudders!" Aunt Petunia screeched up the stairs.

Harry grumbled and cursed heartily under his breath as he shot up in bed. Oh joy, today was July the sixteenth, and it was Dudley's birthday.

_I wonder how many presents he'll get this time_, he thought, _half bitter and half amused._

He rubbed the sleep from his bleary eyes and sat up. He had had a growth spurt as soon as he had set foot into the house, and he was seriously worrying over his once fitting, decent clothes. He was still too thin and a little bit smaller than average, but not by much. Besides, the Dursleys were giving him enough food now and allowed him out, despite Dumbledore's warning not to go too far.

His gangly legs swung over the mattress. Sometimes his joints were achy, but thankfully not today. Harry stretched, then hoisted himself up and muttered more profanities. If the smells were any indication, his aunt had already started making breakfast. Maybe she feared Dudley's wrath when his food wasn't ready when he came in.

Harry shuddered while he slipped his battered glasses on. Dudley had become even fatter after the diet had shown some success in the last summer. He was so obese now that his five chins completely covered the collar of his XXL shirts, and his stomach completely filled the fabric so it was skin tight. He wobbled everywhere, and the fat legs already formed an X under the obscene weight they had to carry every day. Obviously the boxing during his year at Smeltings hadn't helped his condition, and the nurse seemed to have given up on Dudley's diet. She only had sent a letter some days ago, stating that Dudley's weight was enough to cause heart failure if he didn't do anything to lose the fat immediately.

Well, she didn't need to bother herself with the warnings, for they were futile. Vernon encouraged his son in everything: the eating, the drinking, the hitting on women, and the "playing" with the children in the park. The list was endless.

Harry also had observed how Aunt Petunia's mouth would become very thin every time Vernon said something to spur his son on. Father and son looked more and more like pigs, and their behaviour wasn't any better. They ate what and where they wanted, went out when they wanted, left all the cleaning to Aunt Petunia and even asked her sometimes why this or that hadn't already been done.

Harry hadn't been in Number 4 Privet Drive very long; in fact just a little less than two weeks. But he already saw that Aunt Petunia was very unhappy with how things currently were. When she snapped at him to help her clean up he didn't argue. He just helped her silently and tried to console her with his presence, although he knew how little it would be appreciated.

Well, today was the day, and he was expected down in the kitchen to help make breakfast. He yawned, stretched while he walked to the door, and then went down the staircase. He didn't wash up or change; that could wait. Right now his aunt (for whom he felt a lot of compassion, actually) needed his help.

"Morning, Aunt Petunia," he said after entering the kitchen.

"Watch out for the toast and the bacon while I'm setting up the table," she said curtly. "And get the orange juice from the fridge."

Harry did as told. He surveyed the pile of presents, and then shook his head. Even Malfoy couldn't be that spoiled, and that was saying a lot. He put the juice carton on the table, then turned the bacon in the frying pan and then piled the toast from the toaster into the bread basket. He put four new slices of bread in and pushed the on-button.

"Make some more bacon, will you?" said Aunt Petunia.

She put a coffee pot next to the orange juice, and then placed a plate with sliced tomatoes and cucumbers between the sausages and the scrambled eggs. It was a futile attempt to tempt Dudley and Vernon to eat more healthily, but Harry thought it made the table brighter. It was always he who ate the vegetables.

He had just put new slices of bacon into the pan, when Aunt Petunia changed places with him again. There wasn't much left to do, so he tidied the table a bit more, and then sat down.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" she snapped. "Go shower and comb that hideous hair of yours!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he said resignedly. So much for companionable silence.

He trudged up the stairs. Dudley was probably still sleeping, so he hurried and grabbed his shower things and went to the bathroom. He slammed the door extra loudly, and then locked it. Smirking he stepped into the shower stall and washed up. While rinsing the soap off he brushed his teeth. By now Dudley was pounding on the door.

"Let me in!" he demanded. "I gotta pee! And I want my presents! _Move_, freak!"

Harry smirked and took his time in drying himself up and combing his hair. He sighed. It was a lost cause, really. Then he came out, banging the door open with force. It slapped hard against Dudley's naked stomach, and Harry was almost thrown back by the rebound. They both smirked at each other.

"Happy birthday, Keiko," said Harry. Dudley wouldn't catch the reference to the real name of the whale from "Free Willy", but still the taunt satisfied Harry. "Looks like you've gathered new friends." He stared pointedly at Dudley's fat belly (he made a rather convincing Michelin Man, Harry thought, but with the proportions of a hippo), then disappeared into his room to dress.

Even in his room he could hear the wooden floor groan in protest when Dudley waddled into the bathroom. Harry shuddered once more, then dressed in huge navy blue shorts which he fastened with a rope around his slender waist, and a white, worn out T-shirt. It was three or four years old and was from the times when Dudley still fit into medium sized clothes. They were near to fitting Harry now.

Harry thought that he probably should look into the construction specifications of the house. There had to be a limit on how much a human could weigh to be able to live in a house like this. Maybe the floor would just give out one day and his whale of a cousin would crash into the kitchen …

He forced himself to not indulge in these morbid fantasies. Instead he braced himself for facing his family.

"There you are, freak," said Uncle Vernon as a greeting. He wasn't eating yet, merely reading the newspaper.

"Good morning to you, too," replied Harry sarcastically. He plopped down onto his seat – the oldest and shabbiest chair in the house – and scowled. It was too hot to cross his arms, otherwise he would have done that, too.

Ten minutes later Dudley came pounding down the stairs. He waltzed in and promptly sat down. With a disgusted sigh Harry started to fill his plate. That his fat cousin couldn't even do _that_ himself. He didn't notice that his loud sigh covered Aunt Petunia's quieter one quite well.

A radio blared its music into the air, and sounds of two men pigging out could be heard. Aunt Petunia only sat there, mouth once more thin-lipped, and held a cup of tea. Harry ate as much as he could, himself. The difference was that he didn't shovel it in with bare hands like Dudley, and he made sure to eat the vegetables after seasoning them with salt and pepper.

And after breakfast the gifts followed. If it hadn't been so sad, Harry would have laughed. Vernon actually gave Dudley a subscription to a porn magazine, and he would pay for Dudley's driving licence. Besides that Dudley got clothes, new boxing gloves, shoes with iron caps, hair styling stuff … again, the list was endless.

Now Harry felt positively sick. Not only did Vernon allow Dudley to read smut magazines and degrade women even more, but he also encouraged his bullying with those shoes and those new clothes … a pompous and rather ridiculous (on Dudley, of course) mix of leather and pimp shirts.

He went back to the kitchen and silently started to help Aunt Petunia do the dishes. He sensed that she wanted to talk to someone desperately. But he wouldn't make up her mind for her. If she wanted to talk she had to come to him on her own.

After doing the dishes Aunt Petunia sent him out in the garden to weed her precious rose beds. It was too hot for him to keep the shirt on, so he discarded it and worked through the midday, sun burning down on his shoulders, back and arms. Vernon waddled a few times back and forth as if to decide to wash his car or leave it for tomorrow. He decided to do it now_,_ as it seemed. He got his supplies and a bucket of water. Whistling he started to scrub his car.

Harry shook his head. It was too weird to see his uncle actually _do_ something else besides sitting in front of the telly, eating chips and drinking beer.

At one o'clock Aunt Petunia called them for lunch.

"Not you, boy," snarled Vernon with a satisfied expression. "You'll finish this bed first, do you hear me?"

"Fine, Uncle Vernon," Harry said in a bored voice. He looked away from the offending man and continued to weed.

When he finally was finished he went to the bathroom and tried to get his hands clean. The soil was deeply imbedded in his skin, and the water became very muddy when he washed the soap off. Then Dudley chose that moment to make an appearance.

"Finished, cousin?" he sneered. "So sorry to tell you, but there's nothing left for you … Birthday made me hungry, you know?" He smirked and walked away.

Harry wondered if Dudley could even form full sentences anymore. Probably not. He stretched his tired joints and rolled his head to get the kinks out from the long squatting. Then he went to the kitchen.

"Are you done?" Aunt Petunia asked him.

Harry nodded. His aunt closed the kitchen door and then opened the fridge. She pulled out several containers and prepared a plate for Harry.

_It __looks like Dudley and Vernon didn't get everything_, he thought, somewhat amused.

Aunt Petunia put the plate into the microwave and warmed the food up. Harry waited patiently, playing with his cutlery. It was quite nice of her to sneak some of the food aside. But he knew it was a small revenge on her husband and son for making her work like a slave.

She put the plate down in front of him. "Eat quickly. The windows need some cleaning."

Harry nodded and devoured his food. Working in the garden always made him hungrier than the other chores did_. _

Cleaning the windows wasn't that bad. It was hot, yes, and he was sweating like mad, too, but at least no one disturbed him while he was at it. When he did the windows on the front of the house he could see Vernon polishing his car, whistling even merrier than before. He just shook his head.

That evening he actually was allowed to watch the telly with Aunt Petunia. He was sprawled out on the couch and looked at the boring show, not thinking about anything. Then Aunt Petunia left, preparing tea.

Harry saw the remote control and was wondered if he could switch to another channel when Vernon came in. His fat face glowed in triumph; obviously his struggle with the car had been a success. Breathing loudly, Vernon let himself fall onto the couch next to Harry, and a bit too close for Harry's liking. The couch creaked and groaned ominously under his weight.

"Give me the remote control, boy," wheezed Vernon. Harry gave it to him, and Vernon switched through the channels. "That's all so boring," muttered Vernon. "Why does Petunia have to watch such rubbish?" He settled for a sports channel – an outlook at destruction derby, actually - and leaned back. The couch creaked even louder in protest.

Aunt Petunia came in. Her expression was once more sour, and she banged the tray with the tea set down.

"Set the table, Harry," she said. "And then go get Dudley."

Relieved, Harry left the couch and the gross, moist body heat coming from Vernon and set the table. After that he sprinted from the room and up the stairs.

He didn't bother to go down again. He was happy to lock himself in his room and work a little on his homework. He would call Sirius later and talk with him.

Later that evening Vernon went out with Dudley, leaving his wife and Harry alone in the house. His annoying bragging could be heard upstairs; Harry, who was still in his room, rolled his eyes at Uncle Vernon's stupidity. His transfiguration essay was almost finished and he wanted to complete it tonight. He just searched for some more tidbits to polish his essay up, and that was why he was currently talking with Sirius.

"So do you think if I pronounce the "Aen" a little bit stronger my iguana would turn a darker shade of violet?" Harry asked.

"Positive," Sirius' voice came back from the mirror surface. "Ask Remus if you don't believe me."

"He's right," said the Werewolf, chuckling. He was currently in the infirmary at Hogwarts, recovering from the last full moon that had been three days ago. "I remember that lesson with McGonagall well."

"Okay then," said Harry. He jotted a note down. "Do you think you will be up and about on my birthday, Siri?"

"Yeah. Poppy'll give me my clean bill of health in a few days, so don't worry. Remus and I are coming, so you better be prepared." He grinned impishly.

Harry smiled delightedly. Finally they had found a way to disguise Sirius in his Animagus form. It wasn't that hard, actually. Remus would simply cast some colour changing and concealing charms on Padfoot and no one would get suspicious. This would be his first birthday where he wasn't alone! He was so happy about that.

"Well Harry, we, uh, need some rest," said Sirius suddenly, blushing a little. "Sleep well, and you know, you can call at any time …"

Harry just smirked and bid them good night.

How blind do they think I am, he thought.

He scribbled a few more sentences down, then nodded in satisfaction_,_ and put his essay away. Now that he actually had time to DO his homework in the daylight it was almost fun. Well, maybe with the exception of Potions, and Divination.

He didn't really know why he kept that subject, but he thought it could be fun to record all of Trelawney's death predictions. And it would certainly give him time for some naps. Not that he stayed awake for long in her drug hole of a classroom.

The raven haired wizard called it a night a little while later and went to bed. He was tired, and the thought of Dudley coming home sometime during the night, booming up to his room and bustling around deliberately loudly … no, he would take what little sleep was granted tonight, thank you very much.

Groaning, he buried his face in the pillow, and soon sleep claimed him. Fortunately he was out like a light and therefore didn't wake when Dudley and Vernon came home from their spree.

------

The next visitor Harry got was Tonks, who was disguised as Arabella Figg. She winked at him, and then dragged him off, saying that she needed help with her precious cats. Harry had to struggle to keep his laughter silent.

They went into the park. Tonks immediately transformed into a hot, long legged blond woman and shed the hideous clothes Mrs Figg preferred to wear. Under them she wore a very short, very red dress. Harry whistled.

"That sure looks great, Tonks," he said appreciatively. In fact, he had to suppress the urge to trail his fingers along her seemingly endless thigh.

"Thanks. Maybe I'll get a flirt today. Those stuck up fools in Diagon Alley wouldn't recognise beauty if it jumped them in the face and clawed their eyes out." She huffed. "Well, is everything okay at the Dursleys'?"

"Yeah, it's okay." Harry told Tonks about his fat cousin and uncle and of how his aunt was becoming unhappier every passing day. As he talked they went to the swings and sat down. "They're just so … disgusting," said Harry at last. "I don't understand why my aunt doesn't leave. It would be so simple."

"Or so you say. But that decision is up to your aunt," said Tonks, shrugging. "Just watch out, okay? If something bothers you, write to the Order. We want to protect you from them, so if they make you work too much, or don't give you enough to eat, let me know. I'll be glad to hex their arses off."

Harry chuckled. "The work is okay. I help my aunt because she needs it. Besides, I would go mad if I was cooped up in my room all summer." He looked at her. "And now tell me, is there something new about Voldemort?"

Tonks' brow furrowed. She bit her lip and then looked him straight in the eyes. "Well, no," she said slowly. "He's keeping a low profile. No one knows where he currently is and what he's planning. Snape's been trying to get information, but he was only summoned once in the holidays so far, and Voldemort didn't say anything important."

"Do you think he suspects him?"

"I don't know," she said and shrugged. "It would be bad if he did."

Harry sighed. "It's just our luck that he's the only spy in the Inner Circle for us. How did he manage to go back there, by the way?"

Tonks grimaced. "You really don't want to know, Harry."

That night Harry flopped around in his bed and couldn't sleep. He pondered their situation. If Voldemort really suspected Snape to be a spy, then they wouldn't just lose a source for information but also a very skilled Potions Master and a teacher.

Harry still hated Snape, and he thought that he would never stop hating the man, but he respected him nonetheless. The things Snape did to serve Dumbledore and the Order of the Phoenix were a lot more than what most of other people would do. Snape had practically given up his own life for the cause. He was teaching brats at Hogwarts, and in his free time he tried to bring down a Dark Lord.

He snorted. Damn the man for his ability to wring some respect from Harry, even in the throes of deepest hate.

At least it was only one more week until he could celebrate his birthday with Sirius and Remus. The bubble of happiness inside his body continued to grow, and not even Vernon's new, strange behaviour could lessen that.

------

"So, ah, are some of your freakish friends coming for your birthday?" Dudley asked timidly on the evening before Harry's birthday.

The Gryffindor shrugged casually. "Maybe."

"What do you mean, maybe? Yes or no?" hissed Dudley, and then wheezed as if he had run a very long time.

Vernon stared at Harry. "They better not come into my house!" he demanded. "I won't tolerate even more of that w-w-strange people!" He angrily slammed down his newspaper. "I don't even know why your aunt lets you live here, after everything that has happened to Dudley!"

Aunt Petunia pursed her lips and said nothing.

"The word is wizard, Uncle Vernon," said Harry, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "And if they want to come into your house, I'm not the one to stop them. You know, I still can't do magic out of school. You'll have to shoot them if you really don't want them here. But do you think it will help? I wouldn't be so sure about that, since they're a couple on the run. Remus is my second godfather and a werewolf, and Sirius Black … well, I already told you about him."

"A-a _werewolf_?!" shrieked Dudley. "_Dad_! That beast will tear us apart!"

Vernon's face became deadly pale, and he clutched his paper so hard his knuckles became white. "They-they won't do anything freakish, right? _Right_?"

"Not if you don't provoke them," said Harry in a bored voice. "You know, treat me well and everything is peachy." He grinned. "Well, I'm off to bed. Goodnight to you." His grin formed into a smirk. "And sweet dreams … if you get some sleep tonight, that is."

He happily skipped upstairs and jumped on his bed. Sirius had told him that he and Remus would come by at eleven, so he could take a short nap now and be up the rest of the night. He slid under the thin blanket, set his alarm for half past ten and dozed off.

When his clock blared Harry jumped up, grabbed his things and went to take a short shower. It was still rather hot, even at night. Harry thought that this summer easily rivalled the last. Dudley's room was silent, and downstairs he could hear the babbling of the television. His family was still awake it seemed – and most likely anxiously awaiting the arrival of the two wizards.

Harry laughed to himself and quickly hopped in the shower. He just washed the sweat down, then dried himself and put on the only decent clothes he possessed: a black shirt and faded jeans.

It was ten past eleven when the doorbell rang. Harry decided to let Uncle Vernon answer the door. But he waited at the top stairs and looked down.

Grumbling, Vernon went to open the door. And really, there stood one Remus Lupin, clothed in a white, long sleeved shirt and brown trousers. On a leash he held the biggest, sandy-haired, shaggy dog Vernon had ever seen.

"Good evening," said Remus politely. He too had put a disguise on. His greying hair was currently dyed dark brown, and his chin was covered with stubble. It looked rather endearing, Harry thought.

Vernon gaped like a fish, then stepped aside and yelled: "_Boy_! Your freaking friends are here! Come down this instant or else–"

"What or else?" Remus asked softly. He fingered his wand casually, Padfoot growled and Vernon paled to the roots of his hair.

Harry grinned and jumped down the stairs. "Remus!" he yelled happily. "I'm so glad you could make it!" He hugged him hard and then started to pet the viciously growling dog. "Come in."

Remus and the huge dog stepped into the house. Dudley peered into the hallway, clearly expecting two men.

"What, this is your murderous godfather?" he sneered, pointing at the dog. "A _dog_? Man, I knew you were weird, but _that_ weird?"

"Who's a dog?" Harry asked, feigning confusion. He smirked when Sirius transformed back into his human self. "That's Sirius Black, my godfather."

Sirius sneered at the Dursleys, then turned to Harry and crushed him in a bear hug.

"Awww, Harry, I missed you so much!" He ruffled the black, unruly hair affectionately. "I would gladly take you in, these Muggles are going to make me puke one of these days." His cool gaze fell on Dudley and Uncle Vernon. "Or maybe I'll just hex them to shreds."

Uncle Vernon paled even more and stepped back hastily. "Er, well, good night," he mumbled. He retreated quickly and slammed the door of the living room shut.

"Let's go upstairs," said Harry happily. "At least we're alone there."

They went into Harry's room and locked the door. Sirius surveyed the pathetically furnished room, and his face was set in a determined line. "If I could I would take you away from here this instant," he said tightly. "You deserve so much more."

Harry took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "Don't worry, I'm fine. As long as every one is safe, it's okay. And I have everything I need, really."

Remus smiled in understanding. "Moody's little lecture helped, then. Good." He gestured toward the old bed. "Let's sit down and have a snack. Siri and I brought something."

Both black haired wizards nodded. Remus enlarged a package and set the food on the floor. Sirius transfigured some tattered clothes into pillows, and the three of them settled down. Harry was almost smothered by the care Sirius bestowed upon him. He was fed grapes, strawberries, even sandwiches and of course lots of sweets. Remus just watched them and chuckled.

"Siri, he can eat alone, you know?"

"And? I missed feeding him when he was a baby, and now I'm catching up."

Harry coughed and looked affronted. "So now you think I'm a baby?"

"My baby," grinned Sirius. "And I'll coddle you all I can!" He held another chocolate chip up and Harry snapped after it.

Remus laughed loudly and held his sides as he watched how Harry and Sirius get into a tussle over the chocolate.

Soon the clock struck midnight, and Harry was engulfed in two loving hugs. A merry, "Happy birthday, Harry!" rang in his ears. Just in that moment he was sure he had never felt so happy.

"I didn't know if you'd need a new racing broom," said Sirius excitedly. "So I thought I leave it to you. I was torn between the new Firebolt Deluxe and a complete new set of clothes for you."

Harry just stared at his godfather. "Are you mad?" he asked incredulously. "How can you even consider spending so much money on me?"

"Because I can and I want to," said Sirius simply. "Look Harry, I really have more money than I could ever spend. Just say what you want and you'll get it."

Harry sank back in defeat. He didn't even have to think about it, which was a humiliating testament to the Dursleys' neglience. "You know what? I want to go shopping. I really need new clothes." He grinned a bit crookedly. "Besides, I can beat Malfoy with every broom, Firebolt or no."

"Great!" exclaimed Sirius. "I'll ask Dumbledore as soon as possible so we can take you out." He cuddled Harry again. ,,Awww, it will be so much fun, visiting London and shopping all day."

Harry tried unsuccessfully to hide his horrified expression, but Remus and Sirius' good-natured laughing made up for the short moment of shock.

Then Remus fished a parcel out of his pocket and presented it shyly to Harry. "Here is my present. I hope you like it."

"That wasn't necessary, Remus, really," said Harry, touched. Upon his insistence he took it and started to unwrap it. When he had opened the lid of the carton he gasped. "Remy, that's not what I think it is, is it?"

The werewolf smiled. "Oh, I think you have the right impression."

Harry put out the items in the box, smiling like mad. There was a vial of truth serum, powder of a unicorn horn, black ink, pixy dust, the juices of several plants, a special quill, and much more.

"I can draw my own map now," sighed Harry happily. "Your old map is slowly falling apart anyway. We should find a way to preserve the parchment if you want to keep it." He even found a little homemade booklet about how to draw a map with the items.

He was positively beaming, and then, only a few minutes later, the owls of his friends started to soar through the open window. The first one was Hermes, the new family owl of the Grangers. It landed on Harry's bed and hobbled until it stood finally still. Harry freed it from the parcel and the letter, then sent it to Hedwig's cage for a bit of water and some owl treats. Just a few seconds later Errol and Pig both stumbled onto the floor, hooting and twittering loudly. They had to carry the usual big Weasley package.

He opened Hermione's gift first. Sure enough: it was a book.

"Animagus Transformation by J. D. S. Crawford," read Harry excitedly. "Wow, now I can try to become an Animagus like you! 'Mione knows exactly what I want. I love that girl!" He then proceeded to open her letter.

---

_Dear Harry, _

_Happy birthday, young man! One only becomes sixteen once! With that birthday some of your hidden powers will awaken, and other surprises are also waiting for you … I really don't want to tell you too much and spoil your fun, so I just hope you like your present. Maybe we can learn how to become Animagi together? _

_Ron spent some weeks in Romania, courtesy of the twins. He was really excited to meet Charlie and his boyfriend since they see each other so little. He also told me that he'll visit Bill in Egypt for a week, too. Fred and George are going, too. I wonder why … I swear, those_ _two are even more money-oriented than the Malfoys! I'm so envious. I wish I could visit Egypt, too, but my parents didn't get vacation time, so I'm stuck mail-ordering books with Amazon and per owl. Sometimes I really hate it being Muggle born. _

_I hope you celebrate with Snuffles and Moony so you're not alone on this special day. I wish I could have come. _

_Again happy birthday. _

Love, Hermione

---

"What a lovely girl," grinned Sirius. "That's a good book. James and I needed years to become Animagi, but I hope you'll get it right sooner."

Harry nodded. "Yeah. This year we also start our Apparating class, so that we can get our licence next year. I hope it is like flying. I don't want to be stuck using the Floo network or portkeys."

Remus chuckled. "Don't worry. Both James and Lily were very good at Apparating. It's to be expected that you'll get it really quickly."

Harry grimaced, then he set Hermione's gift and letter aside to open the one from the Weasleys. Errol and Pig both hobbled gratefully to a bowl with water on the floor. Harry had put it there in foresight. Next to it were some more owl treats so the birds could rest.

He opened the package. He got the usual from Molly Weasley, cake and sweets. Fred and George had supplied him with the newest inventions of their shop, and Ron had squeezed a pair of new, improved Quidditch gloves in. Harry grinned and took the letter.

---

_Hya Harry, _

_We hope everything is all right with you. Tonks said you were fine, but we still don't trust these Muggles. Maybe you know already that I have been in Romania for a few weeks, to visit my brother Charlie. The Quidditch gloves are a present from Viktor Krum, if you can believe it. He is in correspondence with Charlie's boyfriend and found out when your birthday was. So he gave me the newest gloves on the market for you. I asked him to let the whole Bulgarian team sign them, and he did. So, happy birthday, mate! Seamus and Dean will be so jealous, I know it. (Please envision me with a fat grin now.) _

_By the way, Ginny made the cake, so better watch out – OW! She hit me! Well, people are not supposed to read other people's letters. _

_Er, right. I'll give you my real present later. I feared it could get lost, in case the owls are intercepted, you know. _

_Well, have a happy sixteenth birthday! Tell me if you're feeling something! _

_Ron_

---

Harry was confused. "Say, Siri, is the sixteenth birthday really such a magical thing as everyone seems to think? Both Ron and 'Mione wrote something like that."

"Oh, yes. The sixteenth birthday usually is the time when some of your hidden powers awaken. In older families it is celebrated like, I don't know, a marriage or something. It means that the child is becoming an adult. At sixteen you can sign contracts, move out from home and even marry if your parents or guardians are fine with it. But you can't vote and are not allowed to use your magic out of school." Sirius smiled widely. ,,I hope you're not planning on marrying yet, Harry."

"I thought seventeen was the magical age." Harry gnawed on his lower lip, ignoring Sirius teasing.

"It is," Remus reassured him. "Then you're fully responsible for your actions. You're free to do as you please. You can marry on your own, open a shop, everything an adult can do."

"So it is a gradual development?" Harry asked. "I mean, the magic revealing itself? One step with sixteen and the next with seventeen?" He frowned. "What if I won't get stronger? I don't feel like it."

"Well, you can't expect it to happen immediately," laughed Sirius. "Just wait a little. You'll know when something changes. Sometimes drastic things happen, and usually it's great fun."

"Fun? If I blow things up? And what if Dumbledore overestimated me? What if I'm not strong enough to fight Voldemort?" Harry was close to a panic.

"Harry," soothed Sirius, "You're one of the strongest kids I've ever seen, really. You'll be fine."

Harry wanted to say something, but then two new owls flew into the room. The first one carried his Hogwarts letter, the other was unfamiliar. He opened the Hogwarts letter first and eagerly started to read it.

---

_Dear Harry, _

_We're glad to inform you that you'll be attending the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for your sixth year. On the following pages will be a list of required supplies. _

_In your sixth year every pupil has to partake in the Apparating classes. Furthermore you are permitted to attend the following NEWT classes: Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Potions, Defence against the Dark Arts, Divination; Care of Magical Creatures. _

_Please keep in mind that your Potions grade was barely sufficient for you to be admitted into the advanced course. Work hard and try to get along with Professor Snape. _

_Furthermore we're glad to announce you as the new Prefect of Gryffindor. Mr Weasley informed us that he'd rather see you with the badge. Congratulations, Harry. You've been our first choice, anyway. Now show us that you can handle the responsibility. You are now an official candidate for the Head Boy position. _

_You've also been named captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The tryouts will take place sometime in September. Be sure to prepare yourself for them in time. _

_Harry, the whole staff congratulates you on your sixteenth birthday. It is a special day for you, and we all wish you the best. Be diligent and on your guard. _

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Filius Flitwick_

_Rubeus Hagrid_

_Sibyll Trelawney _

_Boris Binns_

_Rolanda Hooch_

_Herman Vector_

_Marsha Sprout_

_Morgan Blackadder_

_Beaudelaise Sinistra_

_Severus Snape (I was forced to sign, brat, so don't think that I like you all of a sudden. The whole fiasco in the Ministry of Magic is still your fault, and I expect you to be punctual when we resume those blasted Occlumency lessons. I really have better things to do than to decode_ _your clumsy messages and chase you through Great Britain just because the Dark Lord decides to send you bad dreams.) _

_P. S.: Oh, and Harry, your things will be bought by a professor for you. To do so we need your measurements as soon as possible. I'm sure someone will help you with it. Now just enjoy the sight of your Prefect's badge and the company of loved ones. Please greet Snuffles and Moony from me. _

_Albus Dumbledore_

---

For a few moments Harry had to process all this. Prefect. Quidditch captain. Apparating classes. It seemed so much suddenly, so many things to do during the new school year.

After steadying his runaway thoughts, Harry noticed that there was another sheet of parchment. Harry took it, scanned it, and then whooped loudly.

"Here are my OWLs!" he said excitedly. "And I got quite a few! I passed in Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, History of Magic and, what the heck? Divination? How the hell is _this_ possible?" He stared at his letter, and then shook his head. "I also passed Care of Magical Creatures and, surprisingly enough, Potions. But I don't think I'll be in Advanced Potions. I didn't get an O."

He looked thoughtful for a moment, thinking about Dumbledore's strange comment about the Advanced Potions class. He couldn't mean it, could he? Sirius and Remus both watched him.

"How did you pass DADA?" Sirius asked anxiously. "That Umbridge woman was a total moron; it would be unfair if your grades suffered because of her."

"Siri, I trained the DA. We knew all the important spells, and everybody did just fine." Harry grinned. "I'm actually thankful that these were the owls, so she didn't get to test us."

"Well?" prompted Remus. "Then how did you pass?"

"Why, with flying colours, of course!"

Unsurprisingly half of their year bollixed the Astronomy exam up. Harry was not too concerned about that – his godfather still loved him. Plus, it gave him the perfect excuse to drop that class.

"Wow, Harry, seven OWLs. That's good! And you're Prefect now!" said Sirius excitedly.

Harry grinned and shook the badge from the envelope. "I can't believe it," he said proudly. "That I would become Prefect after all the trouble. I mean, it used to be Ron's duty and I actually was glad I didn't have to do it."

"Your parents would have been very proud," whispered Remus.

Sirius nodded vigorously, too moved for words. He embraced Harry and squeezed him heartily. Finally Harry regained his wits and untied the letter and a parcel from the other owl. It blinked and fluttered over to the bowl where Pig and Errol sat.

"Ah, it is from Luna!" exclaimed Harry. "Let's see what that crazy girl is giving me."

He smiled fondly and remembered how he had asked Luna to help retrieve her things. She was odd at times, but a good witch and an even better friend. It was she who had helped Harry out of the biggest depression when he had blamed himself over and over for the struggle at the Ministry and all the chaos that had ensued.

In the package was a book about ancient defence magic, quite a thoughtful gift from someone as quirky as Luna. But he appreciated it all the same. He opened it, and saw a photo of some strange, small creature. Since it was a wizarding photo the creature hopped up and down and bared its tiny teeth.

Curiously Harry opened the letter and started to read.

---

_Hello Harry, _

_well, I heard from Ginny that it is your sixteenth birthday, and I thought I could send you a little something. My mother used to collect old books for fun, but Dad and I have cleaned up a bit and decided to throw the old stuff out. She was a bit weird if you know what I mean. I kept this one though. You seemed to like this topic and I think it's related to DADA, so yeah. Have fun with it. _

_Anyway, our trip to Sweden and Norwich has brought some new insights into the life and habits of Bargandles. That's the little thing on the photo. It looks really weird, but they're no worse than pixies, or so they told us. Dad suspects the translator spell was wrong, though. Those Bargandles are much lighter than the common pixies. You can read the report in the new copy of the Quibbler. _

_I'll see you at school. _

_Luna_

---

Remus took the book from Harry's lap and read the title. He gasped.

"Merlin, that girl is absolutely crazy!" he yelled. "This is one of twelve copies of the "_Darkest Book against Dark Arts_"! How can she give it away just like that? There are wizards out there who would do literally _everything_ to get one!"

Harry snickered. "She is a bit weird, but I suppose I can make better use of it than she anyway. She's weird, but not stupid." He set the book and letter aside, and then frowned. He took his Hogwarts letter again and scanned the list of names. "By the way, who's Morgan Blackadder?"

Sirius groaned. "She's the new DADA teacher, I take it?"

"Oh Morgana, if so you're really in for something. She's a complete dolt," added Remus. "Don't bother to pay attention in her classes. Better learn it all by yourself."

Harry's frown deepened. "How do you know?"

"I watched her once when she tried to ban Garden Gnomes with tokens made of garlic and sage. It was pathetic."

"She's an unsuccessful Wiccan," explained Sirius. "She wants to connect to the Earth, but she has no talents whatsoever. A bit like Trelawney, if you ask me."

"Oh joy," muttered Harry. "It seems as if the DA would have its revival sooner than expected. Not that I mind." He stretched. "Why can't Dumbledore hire someone who's competent? You were the only good teacher we have ever had Remus."

"Why, thank you." Remus grinned and started to take some more food out of his basket. "But enough of all that talk about school and teachers. It's your birthday! I believe we brought cake for this special occasion, Siri. Come, help me."

Sirius jumped up and padded over. He took the huge chocolate cake and a knife and proceeded to cut it into slices. When he was done Remus put candles in the soft mousse and lit them with a flick of his wand.

"Make a wish, Harry," both Sirius and Remus said.

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated. Then he blew as hard and long as he could. His godfathers clapped and whistled. Sirius gave Harry a huge piece of cake and let him eat it all.

"I don't care if you get sick! This is _the_ day, Harry! You're becoming a man!" he argued when Harry complained about feeling full. It was very funny, even if the drinking of Butterbeer got a little bit out of hand.

But then the night became early morning and Remus and Sirius had to go. Their goodbyes were happy, and Harry promised to mirror call as soon as he woke up. Sighing, he watched his two godfathers vanish in the shadows. He then went back upstairs. His room was occupied by five owls. Harry purred at them and stroked feathers here and there. Pig was finally too tired to twitter any longer. Instead he formed a tiny, feathery ball and slept. Hedwig came back from her nightly hunt and landed on Harry's arm.

"Is that okay, girl?" he asked softly. "They're just staying this night for some rest."

Hedwig hooted softly and flew up into her cage. Hermes started a bit and then made room for the snowy white owl.

Harry smiled at his presents, glad that he had been able to celebrate with his two godfathers. He set all the things on his nightstand. He would write the thank you notes tomorrow. He wondered shortly why Hagrid hadn't sent a little something as usual. He hadn't made him mad, had he?

Sighing, he slipped into his bed and quickly fell into a nice, restful sleep.

-------

Hagrid's present came a few days later. The short note just told Harry that he had been on an errand for Dumbledore. Harry was relieved. It would have been enough to just get a note, and now he knew that Hagrid wasn't angry at him for something. The present wasn't important to him.

He gingerly opened the package, but this time it was a harmless book. Amazed, Harry read the title. _Summons of the Wild_ by Wiglinda Wind. He read the index, and his eyebrows shot under his fringe. Obviously this book described the ways on how someone could summon wild beasts for his use.

_It might prove very useful in the future_, Harry thought. A huge wave of gratitude washed through him, and he was determined to thank his friend properly.

---------

The rest of the holidays were relatively boring. Every two or three days Order members came by and chatted with him (and scared the Dursleys a bit) or even helped him with his homework. He talked with Sirius and Remus who were on an errand together, and he wrote letters to his friends.

Remus had copied his finished essays for him, seeing that he couldn't do magic out of school. He sent Hermione the copies and asked her for her opinion. A few days later he got them back – to his great pleasure with very little red on them. Hermione was glad that Harry had dedicated some time to his school work, unlike Ron who had spent the summer mostly with practice for Quidditch when he had been in Romania and at home at the Burrow. Her only comfort was that Ginny was equally determined. She wanted to try out for the chaser position and had practised hard for that.

Harry also read the Daily Prophet carefully. Now that Fudge, that moron, had admitted that Voldemort was back, the pages were full of news about the Death Eaters and various raids.

But Voldemort himself stayed in his hideout, not making an appearance. As much as Harry would like to think that he was nursing his pride and wounds, he knew better. Harry had dreamed very little in these past weeks, and he knew this was not a good sign.

The first proof that something definitely was _not_ right was Lucius Malfoy's legal escape from Azkaban. The man had once more snaked his way out of trouble and was now free to do whatever he pleased. Harry had cursed a good half an hour after he had read that. It played hell with his meditation practices. Hermione had given him a helpful book, and after he had overcome his initial anger he had practised in every minute he could spare.

Despite the lack of nightmares or visions, Harry had tried to do Eastern meditation to clear his mind and calm down, just as Snape had ordered him to. It was a slow process to learn it all on his own, but Harry was determined to master it. He didn't want to become a victim of Voldemort's plotting again.

Vernon's behaviour was becoming stranger and stranger still. Whenever Harry worked outside the house, Vernon would come by for some dubious reason and do something useless. Slowly it was beginning to grate on Harry's nerves, and he felt an uncertain uneasiness whenever his uncle was around.

Fortunately the two male Dursleys went out very often so he didn't need to ponder too much about it. Besides, Aunt Petunia always called him away when Vernon was too close for his liking, anyway.

------

September the first came with a huge BANG. Uncle Vernon insisted on taking Harry to the station early, so early in fact that it seemed sure that neither wanted to accompany him. Of course both his wife and his son looked at him as if he was crazy. The teapot had fallen from Dudley's fat hands and crashed on the tiles. Harry's left eyebrow flew up and he eyed his uncle disbelievingly. It was his hobby to get Harry into trouble, after all.

"But darling, you wanted to go to the zoo this morning," argued Vernon when Petunia wouldn't stop nagging him. "And the earlier I bring him to that line 9¾ the earlier I'm back here." He stroked his moustache in which a piece of egg was dangerously quivering.

Aunt Petunia was not satisfied. "Who knows what you're doing in London. I will come with you. Dudders is invited to the Polkisses anyway." She pursed her lips in her typical don't-mess-with-me-expression and crossed her arms. "And I think I'd rather visit Harrods than go to the zoo."

Uncle Vernon faltered. "If you say so, darling."

Harry shook his head. This behaviour was really strange. He shrugged it off and ate the last of his breakfast, and then he hoisted his trunk and Hedwig's cage into the car. Vernon morosely slumped into the driver's seat, which made the whole car sway and the frame creak. Aunt Petunia sat next to him. Her lips were still pursed.

"Do you have your ticket?" she snapped in the vague direction of the backseat.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia. It was delivered by owl a few days ago," replied Harry steadily.

"Good," she said unflinchingly whereas Uncle Vernon held his breath in terror.

The drive passed in silence. As soon as they had found a parking lot, Uncle Vernon kicked Harry out and went to get a cart for him. It was yet another strange thing; usually he wouldn't even lift a finger to help his nephew. Aunt Petunia stared at Harry as soon as Uncle Vernon was out of sight, and then sighed. Then she did something that no one had _ever_ done to him in this family. She embraced him briefly.

"Take care," she said curtly. "I want you back in one piece. Do you think you can manage that?"

"I'll do my best," joked Harry, unsure of what to think. Aunt Petunia's grip on his shoulders was tight, almost, as if she wanted to say that she would miss him.

Uncle Vernon came back, grunting and wheezing, destroying this brief moment of familiarity between them.

"Boy! Load your trunk already, we haven't got all day!"

Harry sighed. He hoisted his trunk on the cart and placed Hedwig's empty cage on top of it. Vernon didn't even leave him time to say some kind of goodbye to them. He dragged Aunt Petunia back to the car, got in and drove off.

Shaking his head, Harry started to push his cart inside of the station. He was early, but he couldn't care less. This way he could get a compartment for Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna. Hermione and he had the Prefect meeting first, but they would join their friends later.

Harry carted his belongings to the gate between the lines nine and ten and passed through the hidden passage.

He started. He had been a little early, but half past nine was obviously _very_ early in the wizarding world. He shrugged. He pushed his cart to one of the wagons and opened the door. A conductor came and helped him with the luggage. Then he checked his ticket and bid him a good day.

So Harry was left wandering the Muggle part of the station. He bought himself a coke with his remaining Muggle money and sipped it slowly. Hermione would have a fit if she saw this. Harry grinned. But she wasn't here and he could enjoy the coke to the fullest. Considering his poor life with his relatives and the closed off life in Hogwarts where no one would ever give them coke it seemed almost decadent to have it now, and to relish it so much. It was exhilariating to feel just … normal.

Being normal included wearing normal clothes for once. Thankfully someone from Hogwarts had sent him a robe from his new stash which he could put on during the train ride, and Sirius had sent him a first aid kit of Muggle clothes.

Now he wore some stylish baggy jeans, belted low around his hips, and a white, tight fitting t-shirt with long sleeves. He had pulled the sleeves up, however. It was still fairly warm and he didn't feel the desire to sweat in his new clothes. His skin had turned rather dark during his work outside. He had no idea how handsome he looked, but then again, he didn't particularly care. Since that dating-disaster with Cho he had no wish for a repeat performance. Girls were just too complicated.

After twenty minutes of loitering in the main hall of the station he walked back through the barrier and plopped down on a bench.

But he wasn't alone for long. Soft steps and the clinking of a cart let him perk up. A short look at his wristwatch showed that it was still very early, only quarter past ten. Curiously he turned to look who was so early.

"The Malfoys," he muttered and rolled his eyes. "Just my luck." He snorted and leaned back. Father and son were coming in his direction, eyeing him distastefully.

"My, my, if this isn't Saint Potter," drawled Draco Malfoy's cold voice. "Where's your fan club, scarhead?"

"Please, Draco, your manners," said Lucius Malfoy disapprovingly. His voice held a warning tone which wasn't lost on either Draco or Harry.

The elder Malfoy stood in front of Harry and looked at him with his hard, grey eyes.

"What a pleasure to meet you again, Mr Potter," he sneered. "No doubt you didn't expect to see me again so soon."

"Oh, but I did," replied Harry casually. He didn't even bother to pull his wand. "Money can solve every problem, after all."

Lucius leaned a bit closer, his eyes held a decidedly seductive look. A cruel little smile played around the aristocratic lips while his nostrils flared the tiniest bit.

In a moment of passing insanity Harry decided that Lord Malfoy easily outshone his Lady in the looks department, especially with those ever changing eyes and facial expressions. He was pretty sure that Malfoy senior didn't mean to have them, but Harry had become very good at reading people, and subtle signs were easily caught by him.

"How right you are, Mr Potter. And how good for me that our current Minister is a complete moron. Greedy, plump and easy to … _deceive_." The last word was breathed out in a tone close to wonderment. Draco eyed his father suspiciously, but Lucius Malfoy straightened up, the face businesslike. "Come, Draco. People who're not even standing when spoken to are inferior to us. Let's get you a good compartment."

The two blondes marched off, Draco throwing a last, haughty look over his shoulder. Harry was annoyed. Trust Lucius Malfoy to worm his way out of prison with his money. It wasn't fair. But what was that about deceiving Ministers? Or did he mean something else?

He did some quick thinking. Last year Malfoy had seen Sirius in dog form, and Draco had said something about his godfather dogging around. He knew that it had been Siri in disguise. Maybe this was another hint at some scheme of Voldemort. A hint … deceiving … maybe another fake DADA teacher? No, that was old. Harry didn't believe _that_. Voldemort had tried it twice and it had failed both times. Maybe Malfoy simply had thought of something else and was distracted. Maybe his tone of voice had meant nothing. He would tell Hermione and Ron, though.

Quarter to eleven the place suddenly was alive and buzzing. Wizards and witches, mostly pupils at Hogwarts, were milling around, laughing and joking.

Harry had occupied his chosen compartment and waited for his friends. He looked out of the open train window, casually leaning on the small wooden sill. He watched the other pupils say goodbye to their parents or talking to friends and siblings.

The Patil sisters entered his wagon and seated themselves in a compartment to his right. Dean and Seamus came in, too, and greeted Harry loudly. They clapped him on his back and wished him well for his birthday.

Minutes later twin yells of, "Harry!" reached his ears, and he left the wagon, grinning from ear to ear. He hugged Hermione and Ron, and then helped them to put the luggage into the nets.

"Hey Ron," said Harry. "I hope you don't mind that I'm Prefect now."

"Nah," replied Ron, still grinning. "I wanted you to have it. I said to McGonagall that you were better for it anyway, and you know that they just gave it to me to spare you from stress. It was true, I asked Dumbledore. To be honest, I'm glad it's over. I'm not a rule-junky like our 'Mione."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He then clapped Ron on the back. "You know what? Let's trade. I become Prefect and you become Quidditch captain. You're much better in strategy anyways."

Ron's face lit up. "Really? That would be great!" He did a little victory dance. "Yeah, that's all I ever wanted: My own Quidditch team!"

"Look who needs to be grounded," muttered Hermione good-naturedly.

Harry turned away to snicker and looked Cho Chang right in the eyes.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi," replied Harry slowly.

"How was your summer, Harry?" She blushed a bit and pushed a strand of her long, shiny black hair behind her ear.

"Quite good. And yours?"

"Quite good, too. I thought a lot about … about us."

Ron and Hermione stiffened when she said that.

"And what did you think?" Harry asked a tad bit coldly. He was prepared for the worst – for tears.

Cho looked up, and then sighed. "I – I can't. Not now. Can we talk later?"

"Why not now?" Harry asked coolly. Then he saw Marietta who was tugging insistently on Cho's blouse. "Oh, I see. Well, I suppose we can talk later. Bye." He turned back to Ron and Hermione. He could hear a sob and rolled his eyes. Why did that girl always have to cry?!

"They're gone," said Hermione quietly. "Really Harry, couldn't you have been at least a bit nicer?"

"Why?" he asked stubbornly. "It was her who ended it, and frankly, I'm tired. I can't stand it to see her cry all the time."

Ron nodded in compassion. Hermione just clucked her tongue. Ginny and Luna came up to them and Harry greeted the two girls with hugs. Luna's pale blue eyes looked at Harry dreamily, and she smiled contentedly.

Hermione ushered them all into the compartment. Not even two minutes later Neville stumbled in, Trevor tightly pressed against his chest.

"Hey Neville, what happened?" Ron asked, obviously torn between mirth and concern.

"I ran into Malfoy," panted Neville. "They wanted to hex Trevor, but I could dodge them."

"I swear, this year Malfoy will get it so hard–," swore Ron angrily. But then he suddenly perked up. "But Neville, you can fend for yourself now, right? Ha! I want to see _that_! Malfoy won't know what _hit_ him!"

Neville smiled shyly and positively glowed at the praise Ron bestowed upon him. He was still as clumsy as ever on a broom, and he still blew all of his potions up, but he was one hell of a fighter if he wanted to be, and the DA last year had really helped to promote, develop, and heighten his strengths and abilities.

He freed his _mimbulus mimbletonia_ from a bag and placed it on his lap. It had grown a lot during the summer, and the soft noises it made when being stroked were more languishing than ever.

"Harry, I want the DA again," said Hermione suddenly. "It won't be as exclusive but I really think we need it. Umbridge might not come back, but Voldemort is still out there."

Ron nodded, bravely suppressing his flinch. "I'm in for it, mate. And Neville, you too?"

Neville nodded. "And Luna? Ginny?"

Both girls nodded.

"I think Seamus and Dean are in as well," pondered Ron.

The conductor blew his whistle and the doors of the train closed. The six occupants of the compartment rushed to the window and waved to the Weasleys or their respective other parents.

"Well, we've got to go to the Prefect meeting," announced Hermione. She pinned her badge on her sleeveless top. Harry did the same, then they both grinned at their friends and left.

On their way to the first wagon Harry became nervous. "What do we do at a Prefect meeting?" he asked.

"We talk about our duties and stuff. Just sit there and listen, I'll take notes." She glared at him. "I hope you're a good replacement for Ron."

"Hey, now that I have the chance to become Head Boy, I'll try my best," said Harry indignantly.

"Speaking of whom, he and the Head Girl are giving us our directions. At least pretend to listen, and maybe you'll learn a bit already."

Harry wanted to protest, but then the cocky twinkle in Hermione's eyes told him that she was only joking.

They passed several Aurors on their way. Finally Hermione pulled a compartment door open and entered. Harry groaned. Just great. Now he was cooped up with Malfoy _and_ Parkinson for god knew how long, and that on the very first day.

Well, it couldn't be helped, obviously. He swallowed his apprehension and entered as well. Hannah Abbott, Ernie Macmillan, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil all greeted him warmly, only Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson glared at him.

"Please take a seat," said the Head Girl impatiently.

Under their feet they could feel the train vibrate; it started to move; the engine huffed and coughed, and then the pipe whistled shrilly. Harry and Hermione sat down next to the Hufflepuff Prefects.

The Head Girl started her speech, and Harry noticed that he had a longer attention span than Malfoy, who looked almost instantly bored. Pansy clung to his arm, and Malfoy tried discreetly to unwind himself from her death grip. Harry quietly pointed it out to Hermione, and she actually looked scornful.

"That _cow_," she muttered. "That she isn't disgusted by her own mirror image! If I didn't hate him so much I would almost feel sorry for Malfoy."

The meeting was mostly uneventful. Harry learned how to behave as a Prefect and what his main duties were. The most important change, however, was that Prefects now were allowed to take or give house points and hand out detention if need be. Apparently Dumbledore thought it necessary to bring a bit more order into Hogwarts this year. Hermione, who had had a whole year of practice, promised to show him his way around. After one hour the Head Boy and Girl dismissed them. Malfoy used the opportunity and pushed Pansy away.

"What's the matter, Malfoy?" Harry asked, smirking. "You look ill."

Malfoy turned around. "How would you know, scarface? Did you get new glasses for a change?" He stalked away, and Pansy ran after him, calling his name.

"Harry, you are a Prefect now," Hermione reprimanded him. "You can't just tease him because he can't take points from you."

"Oh, but I think he can," said Anthony Goldstein confidently.

"And I think Anthony's right," smiled Padma brightly. She watched as the Head Boy and Girl went out. Then she leaned a bit closer. "Hey, Harry. Will you revive the DA? I mean, it was pretty good training, got my highest OWL in DADA." She smiled crookedly. "You're a really good teacher, and after my mom told me that that Blackadder woman is a Wiccan … you have to teach us, Harry! Or we will fail our exams for sure!"

"Real Wiccans are good witches and wizards," said Hermione dryly. "But they actually need the _will_ and a bit of a _gift_ to connect with Earth and work spells with the power. It's another form of magic, different from ours, but very strong."

"Well, yes," said Padma sheepishly, "anyhow, that Blackadder is said to be a fraud. We need you, Harry. Besides, your classes could save our lives one day."

Anthony nodded. Together with Zacharias Smith he had been the biggest sceptic, but after the first few hexes and jinxes they had been convinced of Harry's skills and supported him fully.

"Let's see if she's really a fraud or competent enough," decided Harry. "But I promise, if she's below the Lockhart standard I'll teach you immediately. Do you still have your fake galleons?"

"Yeah."

The four other Prefects smiled in relief. Hermione looked out in the gangway and yelled at some second years to go back into their compartments.

Harry said goodbye to the other Prefects and shooed Hermione back into their compartment. Luna was already reading the newest edition of the Quibbler with Ginny looking over her shoulder. Ron and Neville played wizarding chess, and Ron actually was sweating because Neville had unknowingly positioned his figures in a near-check.

"Hello, we're back," said Hermione brightly. She plopped down next to Ron who sat across from Neville while Harry took the empty seat at the window.

"Oh, look," Ginny said suddenly. She pried the Quibbler from Luna's weakly protesting hands and turned it around. "Blackadder is even in the Quibbler. Why's that, Luna?"

The dirty blond haired girl shrugged. "My dad went to school with her. He says she's not as good a Wiccan as my mom used to be. She's a moron, he says."

"_Your_ mother was a Wiccan?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Well, yes," said Luna, warming up at the sudden attention she got. "But she experimented with both kinds of magic, and that's how she died eventually. I told Harry about it."

All eyes landed on Harry.

"She just told me that her mother blew herself up while experimenting," he said defensively. "I didn't know she was a Wiccan. What's a Wiccan, by the way?"

"The Muggle Wicca cult was founded in the eighteenth century," explained Hermione. "It's a religion based on the worshipping of Earth and its gifts and powers. In the Muggle world the Wicca cult is more spiritual; it's supposed to help finding their way in life. In the wizarding world, however," her tone became ominous, "the _true_ Wicca cult is hundreds of years old. It probably comes from the Celtic pagan magic rites which were used to calm the gods and thank them and Mother Earth for their gifts. The wizards and witches who practise Wicca today have a deep bond to Earth and deeply respect all living beings, the plants, the animals, the humans. But they also cherish the water, the fire, the air and the earth. They consider themselves part of a cosmos and thus live in harmony with Earth. If they can use the Magic, the power of a Wiccan can be tremendously strong. If a Wiccan is fully connected to Earth he or she can use all the powers that reside in Earth."

"But that would mean a Wiccan can destroy our planet if she wanted it," said Ginny, biting her lower lip.

"He or she could," agreed Hermione, nodding her head. "But Wiccans live in harmony and therefore do not wish to destroy the planet they're living on."

"My mom was fairly good," said Luna dreamily. "She used to sit in the garden and talk with the plants. Sometimes I watched her for hours, and I could feel the Magic around her." Her pale eyes locked once more on Harry's face. "I'm like my mother. I want to use the same powers. My mother probably would have sent me to a Wiccan coven to build my powers and my connections, but my dad insisted that I go to Hogwarts."

Hermione nodded. Her brown eyes showed sympathy for the girl who had lost one parent in a rather cruel way. "Your dad was right, you know. In order to live in the wizarding world you need at least a basic knowledge of the bound Magic. That's the magic within ourselves. Wiccans are forced to learn both kinds of magic … I see now why the Sorting Hat put you into Ravenclaw."

The rest of the train ride passed peacefully, with the exception of Malfoy's visit. But seeing that every single occupant in their compartment was a DA member he quickly thought about what he wanted to say and disappeared. He didn't even get around to insulting Ron, and that was a first.

Later Dean and Seamus joined them, together with Parvati Patil. It soon became crowded in their compartment, and Hermione ended sitting in Ron's lap, Ginny in Dean's lap (who was still her boyfriend; and they seemed to like each other a lot, if the kissing was any indication) and a giddy Parvati claimed Harry's lap. The rest were content with their seats and waded through the mountains of sweets Ron, Ginny, Harry and Neville had bought.

They talked about their OWLs and their expectations for the new year. Harry, for one, fully expected Snape to hate him more than ever. But he was prepared. He hated the man more than ever, too, so they were even in that regard.

When the topic changed to Apparating and eventually to Animagus Transfiguration, Harry, Ron and Hermione closed up. They wanted to learn how to become Animagi alone. During the summer holidays they had written letters back and forth, making plans for that. It was something they didn't want to share with their classmates. It was sentimental, especially for Harry.

Finally the train slowed down and came to a halt at Hogsmeade station. Pupils streamed out of the train, Aurors watched out suspiciously, and Hagrid's booming voice called for the first years. Harry quickly went up to him and without further ado hugged him hard.

"'Ey, 'Arry!" crowed Hagrid. "So nice ter see yer, 'lil fella! How'd yer find my present, eh?"

"Fabulous!" beamed Harry. "I'll try that, maybe even train that together with the others. Thank you so much!"

"Thought yer could need that," said Hagrid abashedly.

"Thanks, Hagrid," Harry said again. "I'll see you later, okay? Prefect duties, you know …" Harry grinned up to him, and his bright green eyes sparkled. He then turned around and fought his way through a sea of tiny first years. Hermione was already waiting for him, and together they shooed the dawdling boys and girls into the carriages.

The sight of the Thestrals didn't shock Harry as much as they used to. He was even brave enough to pet the one that stood in front of his carriage, and after a moment Luna joined him calmly. He secretly thought about whether it would be possible to summon one of these in a situation of dire need.

He was brought out of his pondering by Hermione who called him into the carriage. When they arrived at the castle gates that led onto the Hogwarts grounds Harry had the feeling that something would change. He couldn't place it, but it was there. He absently stared into Luna's misty eyes, only to be shaken awake by Ron when they arrived at the front doors of the castle.

For the first time Harry didn't sprint into the Great Hall with the others. He waited patiently, put some order into the mass of students_,_ and greeted his friends and acquaintances as he went. Hermione watched him, satisfied, but frowned when her eyes fell on the two Slytherin Prefects. Malfoy and Pansy just stood there and talked. Harry pretended not to care but he strained to hear what they were saying.

To his disappointment it was only bickering between girlfriend and boyfriend. Harry tuned it out as soon as he heard the quarrel. He really had better things to do than thinking about Malfoy's love life. He shuddered. A love life with Pansy was very low on thelist of things he wanted to think about indeed.

He and the other Prefects pushed the last pupils into the castle. Through open doors the swarm of children and young adults filed into the Great Hall. The house tables filled as their respective occupants sat down. The Ravenclaw Prefects told the others that they would guard the door until the first years were through. Gratefully Harry and Hermione joined Ron, Seamus and Dean who had saved them seats.

A few minutes later McGonagall came in. Since the attack last summer she had to rely on a walking stick, but she was as energetic, strict and snappish as ever, and no one dared to cross her path. It was no secret that she was in an extremely foul mood concerning the Ministry, and if she had her way with Fudge, the man would have gone to dig his grave long ago.

The scared first years trotted behind McGonagall. The curious and amused glances from the older students didn't help them much. Some were shaking like leafs. Harry smiled at them encouragingly while Hermione was busy talking to Parvati. Ron stared at some of the kids with a glazed over expression. Maybe he was already thinking about Quidditch strategies against the Slytherin team.

McGonagall got the stool and the hat and placed it in front of the teacher's table. Everyone quieted down, until it was eerily silent in the Great Hall. Then, suddenly, the Sorting Hat sprang to life.

Harry and Hermione listened intently to the new song, but other than new, dire warnings about the unity within, the hat told them nothing new. Harry was a bit disappointed, and in Hermione's face he could see that she felt the same. Then he glanced over to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Prefects, and all four nodded shortly. Harry smiled briefly. Maybe he had more allies than he had thought.

The Slytherins, however, looked miffed. Harry could clearly see how their minds worked. On the one side they hated the Gryffindors and wanted to give them big trouble, but on the other hand they knew that this was not a game. If they joined Voldemort they would be servants to a Mudblooded maniac, and they knew it. They would never be free again, and that was very much against the beliefs of every real Slytherin. But the power seemed alluring, despite all the doubts.

The Gryffindor sighed. McGonagall started to read out the names of the first years, and one after one they were sorted into the houses. Gryffindor got thirteen new students, Hufflepuff eight, Ravenclaw nine and Slytherin only six. It seemed that in the upcoming war parents had either brought up their children to be against the Dark Lord or sent them to another school. The small number of Slytherins seemed to prove that.

Harry looked at the Slytherin table. Malfoy watched his new house mates solemnly, Crabbe and Goyle sitting stupidly next to him. Pansy scowled from her seat next to Goyle. Blaise Zabini sat next to Crabbe and seemed utterly unconcerned.

When the noise had died down, Dumbledore stood up. "Dear students, welcome to Hogwarts, be it for your first year, your last year or a year in between." He smiled faintly at the snickering students, but then his face became serious.

"We all heard the song of the Sorting Hat, and again it warned us to stay united. The Dark Forces are stronger than ever, Voldemort is gaining power and followers. Hogwarts is the last defence we have, and you children are the ones to decide if we fight the evilness Voldemort bestows upon us or surrender to it."

His light blue eyes behind the half moon shaped glasses surveyed the four tables. "Surrender would mean death and despair. It would mean that we and our loved ones will have no future."

The old, worn face showed a gentleness towards the students that no one had ever seen from him on such an occasion. "It is your decision to make, and I hope you'll choose the side that can protect a bright future, your freedom, and your pride."

The Hall was silent for a few moments, and then Hermione started to clap determinedly. Harry followed suit, Dean, Seamus, Ginny and Neville started too, then the Hufflepuff table erupted into applause, and Luna, Anthony and Padma led the Ravenclaw table on. Soon the Great Hall was filled with applause and cheers. Only the Slytherins were silent, although a few looked deeply troubled.

Dumbledore smiled, and slowly the cheers and the clapping ebbed away.

"I also want to introduce you to your new Defence against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Morgan Blackadder."

The applause for her was slow and doubtful. No one believed that she would make it through the year – no Professor had done that before. Not even Professor Lupin who had been really good but unfortunately was a werewolf.

Luckily Umbridge had been fired from the Ministry of Magic because the OWL examiners and the board of governors had discovered that she had seriously sabotaged the DADA classes. With Voldemort on the run they wanted the children to be prepared as well as possible. Fudge had been reprimanded in public to his undying embarrassment.

"Firenze will teach the Divination classes together with Professor Trelawney," said Dumbledore merrily, "And some of you will be glad to have their Care of Magical Creatures teacher back." The Gryffindors cheered at that. "Well, now I've talked long enough. Dig in!"

"Damn right about that," Ron mumbled and looked wistfully at the empty golden plates on the table.

With a loud whooshing sound the house tables filled within seconds with the most delicious food. Scrambled eggs, sausages, roasted chicken sandwiches, hamburgers, fish and chips, pudding and cakes were piled up, and the ravenous students grabbed everything they could reach with their hands and wolfed it down.

After the feast and some last words from Dumbledore, Harry and Hermione led the first years to the Gryffindor tower, telling them about the tricky stairs and the moving portraits.

"Now pay attention," Hermione told the first years. "You need a password to get in. The password changes every week. The current password is 'Aeris Domestica'."

The Fat Lady swung aside, and the gaping first years scrambled through the portrait hole. The older Gryffindors followed.

"Please take a seat," said Harry. "Our head of house, Professor McGonagall, will be here shortly."

While they waited, Angelina came to Harry and Ron.

"Hey!" she said merrily. "I heard you're a Prefect now, Harry. Good job! Dumbledore finally came to his senses!"

"Hey!" said Ron indignantly.

"Come on, Weasley," said Angelina playfully. "You weren't meant to be Prefect and you bloody well know it. Besides," her eyes darted to the left and right, "I gave the position as captain of the team up to study in peace. Merlin knows I'll need it." She clapped Ron on the back heartily. "And I wanted to ask if you could do the job anyway. I know that McGonagall wants Harry, but you're way better in tactics. So, will you?"

"You need to _ask_?" yelled Ron. He jumped Angelina and hugged her. "Of course I accept."

Hermione elbowed him. McGonagall had finally arrived and was about to start her speech. They fell silent and listened to her crisp words about responsibility, points, the house cup and classes. She seemed tired and left soon, but not without drilling Ron for the upcoming Quidditch season first.

"Funny, isn't it?" she said, "Every captain of Gryffindor has been a keeper so far. I hope you'll not disappoint me, Mr Weasley."

"No, Professor," Ron said in delight. "We're not the lions for nothing."

Angelina, Katie and Alicia joined them. "We're playing chasers in the important games," Katie said.

"Against Slytherin," elaborated Alicia, "but we want you to try new chasers out. And beaters! That Jack Sloper seriously has to be replaced. What about Thomas and Finnigan? They're always hanging out together. And your sister is quite good at chasing."

"The tryouts are being held on September the thirteenth. I expect you to scout fairly and to the best of your knowledge," said McGonagall. She took her walking stick and turned to leave. "I'll post the announcement on the board. Good evening."

"Good evening, Professor," said the group.

Ron immediately went to Ginny and asked her if she would try out for the chaser position. Parvati claimed that she wanted to be chaser, too. Ron had hope for their team. Parvati had a quick wit and could curse very convincingly when she wanted to. Colin announced that he wanted to try out, too, together with Dennis.

"What about you, 'Mione?" Harry asked. "Do you want to try out for chaser, too?"

"Am I tired of my life already?" she snapped. "Think about it, Harry. My flying lessons were pitiful at their best. No, I'll let you have all the fun and put your pieces back together later. And now go talk to the others, I can see they're just about dying to get a word with you." Hermione smirked and snuck away unnoticed, while Harry saw himself confronted with his house mates.

All evening long students approached Harry and asked him whether he wanted to continue the DA or not. A lot of these students had followed the newspapers avidly and were more concerned than ever. Harry talked to them, promising nothing yet, but if he was honest with himself he almost didn't have any other choice. He had liked teaching, and he was glad that his friends believed him now.

-------

Tuesday was their first day of classes, and McGonagall gave them their timetables for the year when they sat down at the Gryffindor table for breakfast.

"Oh no," moaned Ron. "Look what we've got today. History of Magic, Divination, a double hour Potions and a double hour Transfiguration. Couldn't they have that mixed up at least? One boring and one tiring lesson next to each other?"

Hermione clucked. "_You_ are taking Divination. I still have Arithmancy instead, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm in Advanced Potions which will be much more difficult. So kindly stop moaning. And look, we only have our Apparating class next Monday. Pity, I'm really looking forward to it."

Harry stared at his timetable in shock, ignoring her comment. "Oh no! Dumbledore really had Snape take me in to his Advanced Potions class!" he hissed to Hermione. "I don't _want_ to go there! I would be perfectly fine in the normal classes!"

Hermione frowned. "You got Acceptable in your OWL, didn't you? Well, yes, that's certainly not enough for the advanced classes. I think you should speak with Dumbledore."

"Yeah. I'll go now, maybe he's groggy enough to answer my questions." Harry grimly got up and stalked away.

Luckily Dumbledore was just about to enter the Great Hall, so Harry could ask him without alarming half of the school. After a few words he nodded and went back to his friends.

"And? What was his reasoning?" muttered Hermione.

"Later," said Harry. "I'm starving, and I know I'll need my strength for Binns."

Hermione huffed but didn't say anything. The Advanced Potions class wasn't until the next day. Ron and the other Gryffindor sixth years boys and girls would have a free period then, just like Harry and Hermione who had theirs today during the normal Potions class. He arranged a meeting with Hermione in the library. He realised that this would be the perfect possibility to tell her all about Lucius Malfoy's strange words.

History of Magic was as boring as ever, and both Harry and Ron instantly dozed off. Hermione couldn't even be mad at them for she was sleepy herself. History right after breakfast was unbearable.

After that Harry and Ron dragged their feet to Divination. They were still in a stupor, so they didn't even realize that they apparently had Divination together with some Slytherins this year. Only a few students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff had wanted to take that class further on the NEWT level.

"Potter, are you just bored or did somebody drug you?" taunted Malfoy when they climbed up the last stairs to the north tower, wheezing and panting and with half drooped eyelids.

"The drugging will come shortly," Harry shot back smartly. "And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop asking stupid questions."

His friends snickered and Malfoy turned away, muttering angrily. Pansy glared at Harry. Then the silvery ladder slid down and the students started to climb up into the classroom.

Harry hadn't been lying when he said that the drugging would follow later. Trelawney was burning some herbs in her incense censers, and the smoke wafted through the whole classroom. Desperate for air, Ron and Harry chose a table next to a window, and Ron tried to pry the jammed window open a bit. He succeeded eventually, and both sighed in relief when the smoke started to seep out. Fortunately for them Trelawney was too occupied to see them, but Lavender shot them both a dirty look.

Malfoy managed to shake Pansy off and partnered with Blaise. Pansy grumbled and took a seat next to Millicent who looked as sceptical as Hermione and clearly had something better to do with her time.

"Welcome back to school, my dears," said Trelawney in a misty voice when everyone was seated. "You all know that this year shall be used to prepare you for your NEWT exams. And I'm honoured to see you all in my advanced class, proper and healthy." Her huge eyes landed on Harry. "Mr Potter here passed his OWL exam with an outstanding, just as I've seen it with my Inner Eye …"

"And how, pray tell, did wonderful Potter do that?" cut Malfoy in scornfully.

"Mr Potter predicted for Madam Marchbanks some very interesting things," Trelawney said mistily. "He said she would meet a dark, soggy stranger … And she MET a dark, soggy stranger. He tried to sell her some cauldrons. Yes, very insightful. She couldn't have been more surprised, I can assure you."

Harry thought with a sinking feeling that he had mixed her heart and life line up and told her that she must have died the Tuesday before or some such rubbish. How could THAT lead to an Outstanding?

"Furthermore," said Trelawney's wafting voice, "his prediction of her death was quite right as she had to learn. Mr Potter told her that she already must be dead, and indeed, Madam Marchbanks was approached by the driver of the Knight Bus. He apologised for almost hitting her the other Tuesday … It was a very close escape for her … Well, needless to say that he got an Outstanding …"

Whispers broke out between the students. Ron snickered so hard he had to stuff his fist into his mouth, and Malfoy glared at Harry with his most disgusted expression.

"You are really lucky, mate," sniggered Ron quietly. "But I can't say I did badly, myself. My examiner met his twin later … that's how I got my Above Average."

Harry chuckled and quickly looked away from Trelawney who gazed at him adoringly.

"This year we will revise hand reading, crystal ball gazing and the reading of tea leafs, the fire omen, dream reading and the bird innards."

"Eurgh!" Pansy said loudly. "Why do we have to dig in _bird innards_? That's disgusting!"

A mean smile flittered briefly over Trelawney's face. "Well, Ms Parkinson, those innards hold your future … your dreams, your fears, your wishes and your failures … Don't underestimate the art of divination … Now, everyone, open your books to page five and start reading your partner's hand lines."

Harry liked hand reading, despite his dislike for the subject or the teacher. There were lines, there were pictures in the book, and he could very clearly see what his lines looked like. So he grabbed Ron's hand, put a piece of parchment and a quill next to it and started to draw the hand. When he was finished Ron took his hand away and both started looking for the results.

"Oh look, Ron, your life line is very long and sturdy. That means you'll live a very long and healthy life. And here, in the middle, are some smaller lines. That means you'll have some children."

Ron grimaced. "I don't think I want children soon."

Harry laughed and continued to predict Ron's fate. Professor Trelawney glided over to them and looked for a while, but for once Harry didn't mess things up, and she was satisfied. When it was Ron's turn she sat down.

"May I?" she asked, and every student stopped dead in their tracks and looked at them. Some in glee, others in apprehension.

"Oooh, I see," said Trelawney softly. "Well, Mr Potter … It seems your awakening powers have made quite a change in your life … Your life line is very long, but there are intruding lines … Things will change, and not for the better … Your heart line is split … You will never find your true love because your heart is unsure … You have been hurt in the past. And here's your head line. You've got a very strong will, Mr Potter, but it will not save you from the new shadows that are following you …" She breathed out evenly and then stood up gracefully and with tinkering bracelets and necklaces.

"Well, at least she didn't predict my death this time," said Harry loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Malfoy smirked. "You've been _hurt_, Potter? I didn't even think you were able to get a girl to like you."

Pansy laughed cruelly. "Yeah, Chang doesn't like you anymore. She must be blind to let you even near, let alone kiss you–"

Harry shrugged seemingly careless, but he was positively fuming inside. "If I had a girlfriend like yours Malfoy, I would give everything to be single again."

Malfoy blanched. "She's not my–"

Pansy clucked her tongue disapprovingly and clung to his arm. "But Dracy! Of course we're together! There's no point denying it."

Ron and Seamus broke down laughing hysterically, and Harry, Neville and Dean weren't far behind. Even Blaise's lips twitched a little.

"Are you done with your task?" snapped Professor Trelawney, a lot less misty and windy. "I expect a three feet long essay on what you've found out about your partner! Prove every statement you make!"

The whole class groaned but at least Professor Trelawney dismissed them early. She claimed she was too irritated by their spiritual straying to bear their presence any longer – Harry thought she had a headache and wanted to nurse it.

Harry's next two periods were free. He left Ron who was moaning about his class with Snape and met Hermione at the entrance of the library. They quickly searched out for a table and looked for eventual eavesdroppers.

Hermione put some books and parchment on the table but didn't open anything.

"I have to talk to you about something," said Harry in a hushed voice. "I couldn't tell you yesterday, but I think it is important."

Hermione nodded, grabbed her wand, and cast a clever silencing bubble around their table. "You can tell me everything," she said, pleased with herself.

Harry smiled gratefully. "Well you see, yesterday I was early at King's Cross, and I met Malfoy and his father there."

"What? Did he try anything?" demanded Hermione.

"No, no," Harry reassured her quickly. "But he said something rather strange to me. It sounded suspiciously like a hint … or a warning."

"What did he say exactly?" She leaned over her books, and her brown eyes glowed with curiosity and excitement.

"Well, he told me that he bought his way out of Azkaban, and that Voldemort is lucky to have Fudge where he is, because he's greedy, plump and easy to deceive." Harry frowned. "But his intonation was funny. He emphasized the 'deceive', and I wondered if he wanted to hint at something."

"Yeah, he did that before, didn't he?" said Hermione, frowning even more. "Ron's father told me that you had a run-in with Malfoy in the Ministry of Magic last year. That he said some rather funny things to you. Something about finding your way out of trouble like a snake or some such rubbish." She snorted. "They're not very subtle, now are they?"

"Aren't you worried?" Harry asked carefully. "I mean, maybe he wanted to gloat about some great plan …"

"And maybe he wanted to say nothing with it," Hermione finished his sentence. "Yes, Harry, I believe it is reason to worry. I'll keep it in mind. But maybe he was just distracted. You know how much people like him love to hear themselves talk."

Harry sighed in disappointment. "I hoped you'd have some sort of inspiration …"

"I'm afraid not," said Hermione regretfully. "But maybe we'll find another piece of the puzzle later." She watched him closely. "And now tell me what Dumbledore said about your schedule."

"Oh, right." Harry straightened in his seat. "He said I am to take part in the advanced class to prepare for later." Hermione knew that he meant the real life and the upcoming battles with Death Eaters, not school. "And I'm free from the NEWT, but if I improve considerably Snape will let me in for real."

"That was thoughtful of him," said Hermione. Relief showed in her voice, and Harry was not surprised. "But promise me you'll work for Potions. Professor Snape can't afford to waste his time on you. I want to learn these things …" She looked sheepish for a moment, but Harry understood and wasn't mad.

"I promise, 'Mione. Maybe you can help me understand that blasted subject. Every time Snape is hovering over me I can't produce a decent potion."

"Sad but true," she admitted. "Now, while we are already here we can do something useful."

Harry nodded. "I thought we could have a look at the first chapter in the Transfiguration book."

"That's my Harry."

Studying with Hermione and without Ron wasn't as stressful as with both of them together, Harry discovered. Ron would always try to distract himself from school work whereas Hermione kept focused and tagged Harry along. After they had read the chapter they searched an empty classroom and tried the spells. Hermione managed to turn her book into a ticking clock and back, and Harry managed to do it not much later.

"It's really a matter of spelling and wand movement," said Hermione when they walked to the Transfiguration classroom after lunch. "You saw Dean in our first year. Of course your magic has to work, but in order for it to flow properly you just have to speak the words clearly and move the wand properly."

Harry admitted that she had a point. He was quite impatient and just waved his wand somehow – his strong magic mostly compensated his lack of wrist movement -, but now, after a lesson in proper wand handling he could almost feel how it got better and better. If he kept this kind of training up he would be much better in his practical tests than before.

McGonagall explained to them how she planned to revise the things they had learned and some additional stuff, then, in the second hour, they actually proceeded to the first chapter of the book, and Harry was glad that he could do the spell right. That earned him and Hermione five points each for Gryffindor. Parvati and Seamus weren't bad either, but Ron was in a foul mood after his double Potions class and somehow managed to set his table on fire.

After Transfigurations Harry, Hermione and Ron felt tired so they went back into the common room. Harry found some of the last Chocolate Frogs. They nibbled on them and waited for their strength to return.

"Why does McGonagall have to give us homework on the very first day?" ranted Ron.

Hermione sighed. "Honestly, Ron. This is school, live with it."

Harry tuned their bickering out and took a closer look at his timetable. On Monday, that would have been yesterday, he had Charms, Herbology, DADA and Care for Magical Creatures. Well, that wasn't too bad. He liked Charms, he could see Hagrid in the afternoon and he would see Professor Blackadder in the classroom. Herbology was not his favourite subject, but Professor Sprout was nice enough and the plants weren't boring.

By now Ron was gloating about the fact that both Harry and Hermione had Advanced Potions first thing tomorrow morning. He had two free periods and could sleep in. Harry seriously envied him, but then he looked further and discovered that his Friday would end after four classes whereas Ron had to go to Potions for another period.

Later, in the common room of the Gryffindor tower, Ron, Hermione and Harry were working on their homework for Transfiguration. Harry and Hermione had it finished already, but Ron was ranting about the injustice of it all.

"It really is Snape's fault! If he weren't so damn insufferable and grouchy and unfair I probably _would_ make a halfway decent potion. But no! He has to pair me with Neville of all people, and then he was _yelling_ just because the cauldron exploded!" He took a deep breath and continued. "It was so damn unfair! We lost thirty points, but when Crabbe's table melted he merely said he should watch out better the next time!" He threw his quill down and splattered his parchment with black ink. "I can't concentrate. I want to strangle someone!"

Harry's stomach seemed to fill with ice. "Lovely," he said wryly. "I just can imagine that our double period tomorrow will be a picnic in the park …"

Hermione looked at him in sympathy. "Well, at least the class is considerably smaller, and he will have no excuse to accuse you if Malfoy has done something."

"I just hope so," muttered Harry. The feeling of dread became only stronger.

Later in the evening Harry dragged Hermione away from her books. Ron was currently slaughtering Seamus at wizarding chess. He sighed and braced himself.

"Uh, 'Mione? Can I ask you something?"

Her eyes gleamed knowingly, but she simply nodded and urged him on.

"Well, do you think you could tutor me in Potions? I mean, I really want to survive that class, and I still have to learn Occlumency with Snape …"

"Yes. I'll help you." She had that cat-in-the-cream-look on her face, and Harry could imagine her, licking imaginary cream from the corners of her mouth. "I really appreciate it that you're _finally_ taking your studies seriously."

Harry groaned inwardly. But it was too late now. He wouldn't get out of this unharmed. Better play along, he thought.

"We can start right away," said Hermione graciously. "I was done with Arithmancy anyway." She took her Potions volume and opened it at a random page. "Now, we all know that Snape loves to ask you questions to which you don't know the answers. I suggest you just start to learn random ingredients of random potions. That should be enough."

"Yeah," snorted Harry bitterly. "Maybe we should take the most complicated potion that we won't even brew in class. That would be appropriate."

Hermione looked at him strangely but then complied with a shrug. "Okay. That would be the Forever Hairless potion. It has to be applied on the skin selected to be free of any hair. The ingredients are …"

------

The next morning Harry was in a grumpy mood when he came down for breakfast. Neville had snored even louder than usual, that blasted cactus had made noises all night long, and on top of that his head had been so full with memorized potions ingredients that he just hadn't been able to fall asleep. None of his usual relaxing and meditation techniques had helped; therefore it had been impossible for him to clear his mind. Not that he would have had any quality sleep without Voldemort sending him a little image or two.

Hermione eyed him warily. His house mates avoided him; Harry in this mood was dangerous. Ron skipped into the Great Hall and happily chirped his morning greetings in every direction. He then sat down next to Harry and started to shovel his breakfast into his mouth.

"I hope you choke on it, Ron Weasley," said Harry darkly, staring at his best friend.

Ron only laughed and ate faster. The other sixth year students looked at Harry with compassion. They all understood why he had to go to Advanced Potions, but they knew that Hermione was the only one from Gryffindor smart enough to be legally accepted there. They all could go back to bed and take another hour of sleep while Harry and Hermione were tortured by Snape.

Hermione finished her breakfast remarkably unconcerned, but Harry couldn't get his scrambled eggs past the lump in his throat. He gave it up and waited for his friend to finish. Malfoy smirked at him over the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. Harry resisted the urge to hex him.

Feeling even more grouchy he followed Hermione out of the Great Hall and down into the dungeons. They marched past their old classroom. There were already some students waiting in the hallway. Harry saw Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott, both waved at him, and Luna had made it into Snape's advanced class, too. She stared dreamily at nothing. Then Terry Boot arrived, and shortly after him Malfoy and Zabini.

Harry noticed that Hermione had been right. This small class was almost … cosy. Only eight students – Snape must have danced in joy. He figured with even more dread that he must be the only incompetent moron in that exclusive circle. Now he felt even worse about it. The ice in his stomach spread to his lungs and farther upwards.

Snape then came down the hallway and opened the door. His cold, black eyes caught Harry's gaze for a second, and his lips curled in a malicious sneer.

They filed into the classroom. It wasn't gloomy and dank by any means. The room was well lit and tidy. There were only four large tables, and Harry immediately knew that they would work in pairs. Snape stalked up to the black board and looked at his pupils.

"Very well," he said softly. "Now I have the honour to teach the … elite of your year in the fine art of potions. You all were deemed competent enough to deal with the advanced level, and I'm warning you now. This is the last chance you'll get. If you want to get out, go now." No one moved. "Lovely," uttered Snape wryly. "Then I'll teach you the more complicated potions and draughts and prepare you for your NEWT exam."

Harry shuffled a bit around. The room looked almost comfortable, but he dreaded the moment when Snape decided to pick on him.

"Now, as I hope you all can see, there are only four tables for the lot of you. That implies partner work, don't you think?" He sneered. "And I already had the pleasure to pair you up. I'll call your names now and show you your table. Lovegood, Malfoy." He pointed to the first row, at the left table. "Granger, Boot." Hermione and Terry were placed to the right of Malfoy and Luna. "Abbott, Macmillan." Hannah and Ernie sat behind Malfoy and Luna. That left the table behind Hermione and Terry for Harry and Blaise.

Harry trudged to the table and chose the right seat which was closer to the door. Blaise smirked.

"I really pity you, Potter." He put his bag down and lowered his voice. "We all know that you had not the grade to be here. But for both our sakes, I propose a truce. Let's keep our quarrels out of this class."

"Okay," said Harry. The relief must have shown on his face because Blaise smiled suddenly and crookedly.

"To be honest," he whispered, "I just scraped through with a lot of dumb luck. Let's make the best out of this."

Harry nodded. He arranged parchment, quill and ink on his desk, placed his book and his ingredients and then looked up again.

Snape was surveying his little class with narrowed eyes.

"Now," he growled. "In this classroom I won't tolerate impudent behaviour. If someone decides to play pranks with ingredients," he looked pointedly at Draco, "then there will be hell to pay. A lot of the potions we are going to brew are highly volatile. If someone makes trouble they will be immediately dismissed from this class and won't take their NEWT. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir," they answered.

"I also highly recommend that you read the instructions carefully and double check what you're doing," now his eyes unmistakeably landed on Harry, "And also check that everything is as it should be." His eyes landed on Luna who hummed very softly and played with a lock of her long, dirty blond hair. "I also want you to come prepared to classes. I will give a short quiz every lesson. I expect you to work hard. This is not the usual low standard nonsense I'm forced to teach the imbeciles who're too dumb to know the right ingredients when they're written on the board in front of them. This is the real stuff and I expect you to come here with the right amount of awe and respect."

Blaise snickered softly. "He's so dramatic," he whispered. "I bet he practices his speeches in front of a mirror."

Harry cleared his throat. Snape's head shot around, and the dark eyes burned into Harry's.

"Potter. Tell me one ingredient of the Forever Hairless potion."

Hermione winced, Harry noticed with cynical amusement.

"Fire snail juice, Sir," said Harry.

Snape froze and stared at him. "And how much of the mistletoe flour must be added?"

"Three pinches, Sir," said Harry stiffly.

The dark eyes burned even more, but then Snape looked away and at the others.

"You see that even someone as untalented as Potter is able to come prepared. I want this kind of preparation. Two points for Gryffindor, Potter."

Malfoy and Hermione gasped. That definitely was a first. With a grim feeling of satisfaction Harry concluded that Snape must have been serious when he had said there wouldn't be crudeness and pettiness in this class.

Malfoy turned and scowled at him, but Blaise had an expression of wonderment and bemusement on his pretty face in which sky blue eyes sparkled mischievously, framed by long, dark brown hair floating down over his shoulders. Harry thought he would have made a good friend if he had been sent to Slytherin instead of Gryffindor.

"Cool, Potter," he said simply.

All in all, Harry mused after the two periods, Advanced Potions could have been worse. Snape hadn't been nice by any means, but he had been _fair_, and that was a vast improvement in Harry's opinion. Today they had just talked about the goals in this course, and what they could expect in the NEWT exam.

On Friday they would prepare their first potion. Snape had told them to leave all their ingredients and other supplies in the room. It was theirs exclusively for the next two years, and the wards would protect them from theft and damage. Their homework was to look up the potion they would brew and write a foot long essay about its uses, advantages, possible disadvantages, history and development.

During the break Harry was approached by Dennis Creevey who told him in colourful words that Professor Blackadder wasn't worthy to be a teacher and that Harry should start preparing his first class really soon.

Hermione was amused, but unfortunately they had no time to talk about it. They had to go to Green House two where Professor Sprout already waited. Ron came to Hermione and Harry and asked about their first class with Snape. When he heard about the two points Harry had gotten he nearly fainted, but then he assumed that Snape had to be ill and dropped the topic.

The next two periods were oddly relaxing. It was time to squeeze the Bubotuber pus from the peas of the respective plant. It didn't require thinking, and the time until lunch passed quickly. Professor Sprout even spared them the usual welcome-back quiz – the Bubotuber pus was more important, it seemed.

Lunch was somewhat stretched and sticky. Harry and Ron ate without energy. They checked their hand readings one last time and decided that they really had done good work (which even Hermione admitted). Neville mumbled the whole time because he desperately tried to correct a mistake he had made at interpreting the head line of Lavender Brown. He had wanted to say that she was easy to satisfy, not that she was stubborn as a mule and would most likely never marry.

Harry was already outlining the first meeting with the DA. He thought about what he wanted to tell them and where they could start. He really should ask Hermione later to list all the topics they had had and where he could delve deeper.

Seamus and Dean took seats across from Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"Hey guys," said Dean cheerily. "Guess what."

"We have the _perfect_ idea, the perfect present for our beloved teachers!" said Seamus and took a goblet. He poured himself pumpkin juice.

"Why would we give them a present?" Ron asked with his mouth full. Hermione snorted in disgust.

"Well, Lavender, Parvati and we thought that we could give them something special, personal for the new year." Seamus leaned over the table and lowered in voice conspiringly. "We want to read their hands! And then give them their results at New Year's Eve."

"Sounds like fun," said Harry. "But how do we get the lines of their hands?"

"We have it all planned out," said Dean proudly. "Colin and Dennis are taking pictures, pretending they want to make a collage or a puzzle or something like that. Then we read the lines, write a text and give it to the respective hand owners."

Hermione frowned. "And who will read all the lines? Surely not you two?"

"Well, that's how you come in," grinned Seamus. Hermione rolled her eyes, but he dutifully ignored her. "Harry is quite good at this, and maybe you could slip in one hand or two, too, Hermione …"

"Me? I don't even _take_ this class!" she shrieked.

Dean decided to elaborate a bit for the sake of their ears. "No one dares to read Snape's lines. We thought, if someone can do it, then it is you, even if you don't take the class. All you really need is the book, anyway."

"Why don't you want to read his hands?" she asked suspiciously.

Dean and Seamus squirmed. "Uuh, you see, he can be … vicious at times, and if he sees that someone _competent_ did his reading then he wouldn't rip off our heads, at least …"

"Oh, you need a _scapegoat_ for your prank," said Hermione icily. "But fine, I'll do it. It interests me."

Dean and Seamus slumped as the tension left their bodies.

"Harry? Would you read Hagrid's and Dumbledore's hands?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, why not." Harry shrugged. "But I hope Colin and Dennis don't mix the photos up."

"I think it's hard to mistake Hagrid's hands for anyone else's," Ron pointed out.

Then it was time to march to the north tower and to another class with Trelawney and the Slytherins.

"A double period!" groaned Ron. "Why us? And why as the last subject?"

Harry grinned. At least it wouldn't get boring when Ron continued to complain. Dean, Seamus, Lavender and Parvati tagged behind them. Neville had gotten lost somewhere between the second corridor and the start of the staircase up the north tower, but no one bothered to search him. They were late as it was, and Trelawney was used to Neville's tardiness, anyway.

The Slytherins were already seated when the bunch of Gryffindors climbed through the hatch. The silent sneering and scowling didn't intimidate anyone. It mildly amused Harry, mildly annoyed Ron, mildly interested Dean and mildly irked Seamus. The girls didn't even bother.

Trelawney swooped down on them and collected their homework. She announced that the double period today would be spent with reading other students' hands, not the partner from the last time. With a slightly irritated voice she explained that some students wouldn't treat the topic seriously. She paired up Harry with Millicent who sneered down on him, Ron with Zabini and Neville, who just came in, wheezing like a horse, with Malfoy of all people.

"Don't touch me, Longbottom," Harry could hear him say, "your stupidity could be contagious for all we know."

Harry grabbed Millicent's hand roughly and started to examine it. Triumphantly he discovered that hands indeed told a lot about their owners.

"You are short tempered and mean," he told her in a bored voice. "Furthermore I don't see a split in your heart line, meaning that you're not able to feel romantic feelings towards anyone. You're headstrong and you will make something out of your life, but you will remain lonely if you don't change your attitude."

Trelawney watched him, again. She took a good look of Millicent's hand, and then nodded. "You're really talented in this, Mr Potter," she said approvingly. And you, Ms Bulstrode, should listen to good advice when it's given to you."

Millicent looked as if she wanted to punch both Harry and Professor Trelawney hard in the face.

"It's my turn, Potter," she snapped. "Hand, now."

Harry stretched out his hand slowly. Millicent grabbed it and yanked it towards the lamp.

"You have a long life line, Potter," she said gruffly. "I suppose this means you'll live long." She sneered. "Contradicts somehow with Trelawney's earlier predictions, doesn't it?"

Harry actually laughed at this.

"Well, there are three lines coming into your life line." She scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Influences from the outside," offered Harry. "Trelawney said someone or something would influence my life strongly."

"The one at your thumb must be the Dark Lord, then," she concluded. And the other two?"

"If I only knew," said Harry dryly.

Millicent ignored him and continued to scrutinise his hand. "Your heart line is faint in the beginning and thickens at some point. I guess this means you'll learn how to love, and someone will love you very much."

Harry nodded and snatched his hand back. Malfoy was nearly hitting Neville. Harry caught bits and pieces and grinned. Obviously Malfoy would be inflamed with love at some point and "do everything for his love". He obviously had very strong heart and life lines, and Neville told him that he would have at least one child, if not more.

Pansy worked together with Lavender, and both had overcome their initial dislike of each other and gossiped about boys and hair. Crabbe sat together with Parvati who told him sternly that his life line was nothing to be afraid of. He still had some very nice things to do in his life before he died. Apparently that was in a few years. Harry had no trouble to believe that. If the boy became a Death Eater then it was likely for him to be killed by Aurors.

The class was over soon. Trelawney made them take notes of the hand reading chapter in their book and announced a test for the next week. Harry and Ron hurried to go back to the Gryffindor Tower. The fumes in that classroom always made them drowsy, and both were thirsty.

Hermione almost ran into them as she descended from another stair, and together they strode to the common room.

That evening Harry sat together with his two best friends and perused his old DADA notes. Every single teacher, with the glorious exception of one Remus Lupin, had been a moron. Quirrel had pretended to be too afraid of his own shadow while truly carrying the Dark Lord on the back of his head. Lockhart had been a useless fraud, Moody had been a Death Eater in disguise (although his curriculum _had_ been quite interesting, Hermione insisted), and judging Blackadder by what his housemates told him about her, she wasn't any better.

So Harry scribbled down every dark creature and every curse, jinx and hex he could find and considered important. Hermione had already agreed to teach the theoretical part of the curriculum, and Harry would lead the practice. Ron had occupied himself with listing down all the charms they had learned from Professor Flitwick. Both Hermione and Harry thought it a good idea to practice charms, too. They could blend it all together, but DADA was most important at the moment.

They also wondered if they should inform the other houses that they were practicing DADA without the teacher, who was obviously incompetent, or if they should keep their secret circle.

Harry wanted it to be HIS circle, but he knew that the other students needed to learn as well. Maybe … he was a Prefect … He had an idea.

"Hermione?"

"Mmh?"

"Do you think it's enough to inform the other students that they are on their own with DADA?" he asked sheepishly.

Her smile broadened. "Oh, yes. I think it should suffice to copy our curriculum and hang it on the black board … We can't teach seven years from all houses, Harry. And Dumbledore would think the same. We even can inform the other Prefects …"

Harry smiled back. "Wonderful. Now, do you think we should divide our DADA curriculum? I mean, the first years shouldn't experiment with _Petrificus totalus_."

Ron groaned. "You're too generous! This way I could learn everything, too, but 'Mione never lets me simply look at her curriculum."

But Hermione didn't hear him. She was already busy scribbling lesson plans for the first years, second years and the others.

Much later, after curfew, Harry pinned the plans on the notice board. Then he took out his fake galleon with his left hand, his wand with his right hand and announced the date and time of the first meeting.

------

On Thursday morning the Gryffindors were excited. They would have Professor Blackadder for the first time. Breakfast went by loudly and Seamus and Neville speculated wildly about how Blackadder would design her curriculum. Then the Gryffindors marched up to Lockhart's old classroom and took their seats.

Morgan Blackadder already sat behind her desk and smiled benignly at her students. Lavender closed the door, and then everybody became silent.

"Good morning students, I'm Morgan Blackadder, and I'm your DADA teacher this year. I was told by Professor Dumbledore that we have to revise the lessons from the last five years and deepen the knowledge, but I also want to introduce you to the finer arts of defence against dark magic. Nature has so much to give, and everything is in a balance. I want to show you how this balance works and how we can use the powers of nature to protect ourselves and others." She smiled like a lazy cat.

Harry thought that she was quite attractive. A bit like Professor Sinistra. Professor Blackadder had long, dark brown hair and brown eyes. Her cloak was forest green, and her cloak pin had the form of an oak leaf.

"Now, I heard that you learned how to defend yourselves against Grindylows, Kappas, Boggarts and other creatures of the dark. That's good. Open your books and read the first chapter. I expect you to know then how to fight a Garden Gnome with the magic of our surroundings."

A groan wafted through the room, and Harry could see where that was leading. He sighed and mentally pictured the first DA meeting. Hermione elbowed him shortly in the ribs and smiled faintly.

The textbook was utterly ridiculous. It stated that the witch or wizard just had to plant sage and garlic and the Garden Gnomes would vanish on their own. Ron snorted during the silence when everybody was reading and pointed out that in _his_ garden the gnomes would simply rip out the offending plants. That earned him a reprimand from Professor Blackadder and a fifteen minutes long lecture about how the humans had to learn to respect their neighbours. Then the class went back to reading, but not for long. After another fifteen minutes Harry became impatient.

He thrust his hand in the air. Blackadder motioned him to speak.

"Professor, are we practicing in your lessons?"

The other students murmured in agreement. No one wanted a year like the last where they couldn't even practice the spells they were learning. Umbridge's class had been a farce, and Harry was really angry about that waste of their time.

"Of course! Trust me, I'm nothing like Dolores Umbridge, Mr …"

"Potter."

Seamus raised his hand.

"Yes?" Blackadder looked dreamily at the Irish boy.

"Are we using our wands in your class?"

Blackadder seemed to think about that for a moment. "No. I decided to teach you the ways of non-violent defence. Now, in the next period you will reread and sum up the chapter you've read now and hand the summary to me."

The bell rang, and the students filed out for a short break. Harry was troubled, Hermione furious and Ron didn't know if he should laugh or cry about so much incompetence.

"I don't know what to make of her," admitted Harry. "Alternative methods would be interesting, but I really trust my wand more than my _fluidum_," he joked.

Hermione snorted. "That woman is impossible. I'm really looking forward to our meeting on Saturday."

"That was awful," agreed Seamus. "When do we start with the DA, Harry?"

"Do you have the fake galleons?" Harry asked in defeat.

"Yup. So you let us know already?"

"Yeah. It will be this Saturday afternoon, so be prepared, okay?"

Seamus and Dean nodded.

The bell rang again and they marched back. Hermione slammed a sheet of parchment on her desk and started scribbling, barely looking at her book. Ron next to Harry gnawed on his quill and frowned. Sighing Harry decided to read the blasted chapter so he wouldn't get into trouble on the first day with the new teacher.

Charms, however, were fun. Flitwick revised the summoning charm with them, and pillows, Trevor and pens floated through the classroom. This time Professor Flitwick was in safe distance from Neville. But the boy had that fierce, determined expression again and concentrated hard. He was actually doing very well. Dean had blown up his spell once more when he tried to summon his book bag.

"See?" said Hermione smugly. She swished her wand, and an ink bottle soared straight into her hand. "He held his wand in a totally wrong angle."

Harry shrugged. "As long as he doesn't blow _me_ up I can live with it. We've seen that Blackadder isn't a very good teacher. We can drill in the right wand movements at the DA meetings." Behind Hermione's back Ron had trouble summoning his pillow.

Hermione smiled. "Ginny is very keen on continuing. Even Zacharias Smith is coming again. He said he dislikes Blackadder more than you, so it would be worth the trouble."

Harry sniffed. "He's such a considerate, nice person, don't you think? _Accio_ Trevor." Trevor croaked and flew into Harry's outstretched hand. "I think I'll get it right in the NEWT exam."

"I think you're right," said Hermione approvingly.

After Charms they suffered a particularly boring lesson of History of Magic, but fortunately the snore fest was interrupted by the lunch break. Hermione quickly ran and spoke to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw Prefects. She handed them the lesson plans, and the faces of the other four DA members instantly brightened. Harry was happy to see that he was not the only one with a wish for privacy.

He and Ron already sat at the Gryffindor table and were eating when Hermione came back.

"I think," she said in a low voice, "that it is only fair to give our plans to the Slytherins as well. I don't care if they rip them to shreds, but it will soothe my conscience. Will you do it, Harry? I swear, if I see that cow Parkinson _one_ more time today I will hex her into next week."

"What's wrong, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"Oh, she just thought it funny to trip me on my way into the Hall. I swear, I will break her pug nose if she ever touches me again!" Fuming she put some fish onto her plate and started to eat.

Harry and Ron grinned behind their hands and looked away.

The second period of History of Magic was pure agony. All students thought that this could be very well a free period. Binns' droning about some Werewolf rebellions _could_ have interested Harry, not just because of Remus, but the high, monotonous voice of the ghost could make the most bloody war as boring as the recipe of a pepper up potion.

Finally the bell rang, they had two feet about the rebellions to write, but other than that they were very happy.

Harry, Ron and Hermione went to their common room and put their books away.

"I'm going to see Zabini," announced Harry. "Maybe he wants to come, too."

"Zabini?" repeated Ron. "Why him?"

Harry shrugged. "He isn't as stuck up as Malfoy or Parkinson."

"Go ahead then," said Ron. He turned to Hermione. "Do you mind helping me with that wretched History homework? I mean, yeah, Werewolves, but it was just so boring, and the books aren't any better!"

"Ron, I–"

"You can just tell me what Binns told us today and I promise I'll take notes! You'll make it sound like a war, won't you? I will _like_ it if you tell me about it!"

Hermione smirked. "Alright then. Be prepared for some slaughtering."

Harry almost doubled over in silent laughter when Dean, Seamus and Neville sidled up with Ron and made puppy dog eyes at Hermione. But she looked actually rather pleased to have such an eager audience.

Humming Harry left the Gryffindor territory and strolled around the castle. He searched first in the library and in the Great Hall before he travelled further down into the dungeons. He knew where the entrance to the Slytherin common room was, but he hoped he didn't need to go there.

Of course he ran into Snape, it was just his luck.

"What do you want here, Potter?" Snape snarled. The black eyes searched for some evidence for trouble. And, upon finding none, Snape raised an eyebrow. "Well?

"I'm looking for Zabini," said Harry truthfully.

"And why, Mr Potter? Surely not to pull some prank, I hope."

"No, Sir," said Harry. "I just wanted to give him something … Prefect duties and the like."

"Mr Zabini is not a Prefect," Snape pointed out, and the eyebrow rose even higher.

"I know. But I don't want to talk to Malfoy. And before you ask, he is a stuck up prick who wouldn't listen."

"Make that five points from Gryffindor, Potter," said Snape coolly, pushing a strand of greasy hair aside. "And Mr Zabini is on the Quidditch field."

"Thanks," said Harry quickly and turned on his heel. He fully intended to leave as quickly as humanly possible, but Snape beat him to it.

"Potter," the silky, cold voice called out softly. "I'll see you tomorrow night in my office. At eight o'clock sharp. Don't forget your wand. And at least _attempt_ to practice and clear your mind."

"Yes, Sir," said Harry stiffly. "Was that all?"

"You may go," said Snape in a superior tone.

Harry left, feeling dread pumping up through his veins. His heartbeat was unnaturally fast, and he refused to acknowledge that it was probably fear that thrummed through him.

At least he found Blaise on the field. The Slytherin saw him and landed as Harry waved. His eyes glowed with curiosity, and Harry nervously noticed that his team colleagues watched them like hawks.

"It is rather inconvenient that you're practicing," said Harry, watching the other players from the corner of his eyes. "I could come back later."

"Nonsense. What is it?"

"Hermione, Ron and I worked out a curriculum for DADA. We thought you might be interested."

Blaise looked at him, clearly surprised. "Why are you coming to me of all people?"

"Look," said Harry, losing the little bit of confidence he had had. "Malfoy and I are like cats and dogs. We just don't mix. You're at least human. Will you give him that, please?" He thrust the stack of papers at Blaise.

"Why did you work out a curriculum for DADA?" Blaise asked, scanning the list.

Harry noticed how much the cerulean eyes twinkled in the sunlight. He quickly shook the thought away.

"That Blackadder isn't very good," said Harry, trying to sound nonchalant. "We just want to ensure that the students keep up with their studies. A whole year has OWL exams and Blackadder is doing nothing to teach them. And Hermione is getting a fit when I mention the NEWT candidates."

Blaise chuckled. "I can imagine. Well, Potter, you and your little friends obviously put a lot of work into this. I'll talk with Draco." He smiled. "Thanks."

Harry just waved it off and turned to go. "I'll pretend that you'd have done the same for us."

Blaise's laughter followed him as he climbed up back to the castle.

------------------------

**End of chapter 1**

54


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer and warnings_: Please go and see part one for the warnings and my disclaimer.

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_Thanks_: Thank you all for reviewing and adding this story to your alerts and favourites! It is really encouraging to read what you think about this story, whether you liked it or not, and why. Hopefully you'll also let me know what you think of this chapter since it is even longer than the first. :-)

In response to a few reviews I have received I'd like to explain why the plot is so drawn out. I know that it might be difficult for some of you to stay with me since it takes so long for the plot to thicken. I wanted to pace the story that way to make Harry's development plausible since there are so many illogical stories out there that could have been much, much easier and fun to read if the _fun _had come at a better time in the story. I don't necessarily mean _later_, just more cleverly constructed. To put it simply: I want my story to develop naturally, to have quirks and twists and turns that might surprise some readers in the future. I want to make things happen at the right moments so you can feel comfortable with how Harry and his friends are growing up and developing into young adults. :-)

Whew, that was a lot rambling, so I'd better continue with my expressions of gratitude ;-) Here it comes: I'd like to thank my beta reader **Licelli **who went through all the trouble of finding the mistakes in this chapter. You did an awesome job, not only editing the story but teaching me better English as well, and in record time too! I could't have asked for a better one, so: _Thank you_, and I hope you'll stay with me for the following chapters.

My thanks also go to **furor_scribiendi** who betaed my story the first time around. Without you the whole thing would've hardly been legible since my English wasn't really good back then. I miss you, girl! ^^

And on a recent note: Thanks to RRW for pointing out some mistakes in the timeline of the universe. They are fixed now. :-)

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**_And now please have fun reading!_**

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**Chapter 2**

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On Friday breakfast was calm. Students ate with lowered heads and waited for their mail. For the first time since Hogwarts had opened for another year, the ceiling of the Great Hall wasn't clear and bright but overcast with thick, white clouds, and it depressed them a bit after all the sunshine they had been getting these last days.

Hermione read in her Potions book, Ron played with his cornflakes, Neville tried to perfect his spell for Transfiguration and Seamus just sat there, head supported in one hand and nodding off every now and then.

Harry felt a bit queasy. He and Hermione had finished their Potions homework the night before. It had been difficult, but without Snape hovering over him and with Hermione's calm help he had managed it. Besides, she had corrected his mistakes. Harry thought that he actualley could get a decent mark for this one.

On their way to the classroom for Transfiguration, Harry held back Ron and Hermione a little.

"I forgot to tell you yesterday, but I have to practise Occlumency with Snape tonight," he murmured, keeping an eye on Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. "I have to be there at eight o'clock."

"Oh, bugger," said Ron compassionately. "It looks like Friday nights are ruined for you, mate."

Hermione frowned. "Right, and that means you'll have to do all your homework before eight."

Harry nodded, sighing inwardly. It was good to have Hermione to spur them on, but right now he wished he could crawl back into bed. His flimsy hopes, however, were destroyed by Professor McGonagall's aged, stern voice that called them in.

_At least_, Harry thought miserably when he transfigured his book into a hourglass, _I have all my homework done properly, and if I blow things completely I might live through the day until Snape can throttle me in the privacy of his office._

The feeling of absolute dread didn't lessen when they wandered over the grounds and towards Hagrid's hut.

Care of Magical Creatures was a welcome change to McGonagall's classroom. Harry talked a little with the half giant while Hermione kept an eye on the Slytherins and particularly Malfoy.

"'ello, class," boomed Hagrid happily when everyone was crowded around him and Fang. "We will revise everythin' we've learned in the last year ter prepare yer as good as possible fer the NEWTs. We'll have a closer look at all the magical beasts an' animals. This will be the Hippogriffs, Unicorns, Knarls, Nifflers, Thestrals an' the Giant Squid. I s'pose Professor Blackadder will teach yer 'bout the darker folk."

A disagreeing murmur ran through the rows of Gryffindors, and Hagrid looked at them worriedly for a moment. The Slytherins merely scowled.

"Well, yeah, we'll mos'ly recall what yer already know. Oh yeah, I forgot the Acromantulas an' the–"

"Do we _have_ to revise the Hippogriffs?" drawled Malfoy in a gloomy voice. "I just want you to remember the incident where that rabid Hippogriff almost ripped my arm off."

"Oh come on, Malfoy. It was a simple gash, and if you hadn't insulted Buckbeak he wouldn't have attacked you," said Harry sharply. His green eyes blazed in anger, and everybody now stared at them open-mouthed and in anticipation. "If you would simply _listen_ to what is said in class–"

"Ah, yes, the al_mighty_ Potter," spat Malfoy. "You know everything better than everybody else, right? _You_ could ride that beast, and it was _you_ who rode on a Thestral to London! Just imagine that not everybody is as _brave_ as you are. Well, _some_ of us like their limbs where they are – on their bodies! That big oaf over there is the worst teacher in the entire school!"

They stared at each other with utmost hatred, and the Slytherins were hissing menacingly at the Gryffindors, who growled right back. Hermione comforted Hagrid who looked crestfallen and sniffled ominously.

"Like it or not, Malfoy," said Harry finally in a low, dangerous voice, "Hippogriffs and Manticores could be tested in your exam, and you'd be better off to prepare instead of making a greater fool of yourself than you already are. And now quit whining and listen for a change." He didn't even accuse Malfoy of having provoked the attack in order for his father to get Hagrid kicked out of the school. That had to wait for another argument, although he didn't really need to bring it up again: He knew it, and Malfoy knew it too, so the point was moot.

Draco shut his mouth and glared even harder, but he didn't have a retort to that and Hagrid continued his lesson in peace.

"Oh how I hate him!" hissed Hermione menacingly when they stalked back to the castle. "I could wring his little ferret neck for all it's worth! How _dare_ he insult Hagrid like this! He _is_ a good teacher, and I just want to _kick_ Malfoy where the sun doesn't shine!"

Harry agreed with her. Hagrid always took it very badly when people called him names or didn't like his lessons. The three friends had to comfort him a bit before he was able to concentrate on his next class.

"You're late," said Snape silkily when Hermione and Harry entered the Potions classroom. "Ten points from Gryffindor each."

Hermione pressed her lips together and glared at Snape. Malfoy was smirking at them with undisguised malicious joy.

Harry sat down and flung his bag angrily on the table. Blaise watched him.

"Today's potion," Snape started to explain, "Will only take thirty minutes to brew. I therefore suggest that you start immediately." His dark eyes landed on each student.

Blaise started a fire under their cauldron. "Prepare the moonstone, Potter," he said absently. "What held you up?"

"Hermione and I stayed behind to talk with Hagrid," said Harry angrily. "I wish Malfoy would keep his mouth shut. That can't be so hard, can it?" He took the moonstone and uttered a crushing charm under his breath. It was strangely satisfying to see the hard substance crush and break in the bowl.

Blaise took some beetle wings and measured them. "By the way," he said quietly, "we had DADA first thing this morning. Thanks again for your lesson plans." He smiled crookedly. "I can't believe someone like her is actually allowed to teach."

The thoughts in Harry's head jumbled. There might be a possibility … "Um, can we talk after Potions?" he asked quickly.

Blaise shrugged. "Yeah. What about?"

Snape glared at them and they busied themselves for a while with their ingredients.

"Come to the library, after lunch," whispered Harry. "I'll explain then."

"Fine."

The rest of the lesson was spent in silence. Every now and then whispered instructions were heard, but otherwise it was eerily calm. Nothing sizzled in any way it shouldn't, nothing boiled over, and even Blaise and Harry managed to produce an adequate potion. It had the right colour and the right smell, only the consistency was a bit off. Snape had collected their homework and now took their samples.

For a lesson with Snape it had been okay. He hadn't docked any more points, and Harry believed he had seen something akin to satisfaction in Snape's eyes when he had seen their sample. That hadn't been any worse than Ernie's and Hannah's.

Hermione and Harry met Ron at the table in the Great Hall. Harry felt uneasy because he had invited Blaise without consulting his friends first, but he really thought he could be an asset for the DA. And he seemed to have his heart in the right place. Now Blaise just had to pass the Hermione-detector. If she was revolted he could always pretend that he wanted to talk a bit more about the curriculum.

His friends noticed that he was far away with his thoughts and left him alone. Right after lunch Harry dragged Hermione in the library.

"I need to talk to you," he said quickly. "See, I sort of made a truce with Zabini, and I think he's okay. You know, for the DA. I want to ask him if he wants to join."

As expected, Hermione looked at him angrily. "Harry, have you thought about that for a bit longer than a second?" she hissed. "What if he's telling the Slytherins?"

"I just had this feeling that we can trust him," said Harry uneasily. "He's not bad – for a Slytherin, that is."

She sighed resignedly. "You can be such a damn Gryffindor at times. But fine, we'll check him out."

They occupied a table and started on their Potions homework ("Describe the uses of the Perplexity Potion and explain why the aconite has to boil thirty minutes separately before it can be added."), but it didn't take long for Blaise to saunter up to them.

He waved at Harry and Hermione and sat down on the free chair. "You wanted to talk, Potter?"

"Yeah. I don't know if you heard about it. Some students and we," he pointed at Hermione and himself, "started a secret organisation last year. We taught ourselves defence techniques - spells, curses, you get the picture."

"I know. That was the group Umbridge broke up last year. Draco caught you, didn't he?"

"Yes," Harry ground out. "Anyhow, we, the DA, want to continue the training."

Blaise's eyebrows shot up. "Are you implying … ?"

"I want you in the DA," said Harry a lot more confidently than he truly felt. "Of course you must be trustworthy."

The Slytherin thought about it. "And you really mean it? You would teach me as well? Where's the catch?"

Hermione spoke up for the first time. "Our condition is that you're anti-Voldemort. We don't want to train junior Death Eaters."

Blaise snorted. "Understandable. Besides, most Slytherins are already being trained by their parents and are above school average."

"If you don't plan to join Voldemort, welcome in the DA. If you do, forget that we talked to you." Harry's expression was set, and he watched Blaise carefully.

But the boy didn't need to think very long. "I think I'll join," he said thoughtfully. "Dumbledore was right; we either fight for our freedom or we'll never have a future to dream about." He stuck out his hand and fixed his gaze on Harry. "Let's become friends, Potter. It's a shame that Zacharias Smith of all people is in your elite circle, but not a single Slytherin."

Harry took the proffered hand and shook it firmly. Hermione watched the display with satisfaction. Then she pulled out a very familiar looking piece of parchment. But other than the title nothing was written there.

"Here," she said with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "You have the honour of being the first to sign our new, _improved_ list."

Blaise chuckled. "All right. I suppose it's only fair. If I can gain some trust with it I'll do it gladly. Regardless of my abilities as secret keeper, I really have no desire to look like poor Marietta." He borrowed Harry's quill and signed.

"Just think about it," warned Hermione. "If you tell Malfoy or anyone else whose name is not enteredon the, you'll regret it."

Harry signed next, grinning, and then it was Hermione's turn.

"At least," she said, "No one will be able to prohibit our group this time. Umbridge is history, and if she ever dares to set foot into Hogwarts again she'll curse the day she was born." She rummaged in her book bag, and after a few seconds she crowed triumphantly. "Ha! I even found a spare galleon." She handed it to Blaise and explained how it worked.

"Wicked," said Blaise admiringly. "No wonder Umbridge never found out how you could appoint your meetings." He put it away and then stood up. "Well, until tomorrow then. Potter, Granger." He nodded at them and left.

Harry stared at Hermione expectantly.

"He's okay, I guess," she finally snapped irritably. "And now let's do our homework. I know you'll need all the free time you can get before Snape teaches you." She slammed her books on the table, took out some parchment, a quill and ink and immediately immersed them in the Potions homework.

Ron found them two hours later. He complained a bit about Snape, but when he saw that Harry and Hermione worked on Potions he shut up, put his own things on the table and started working, too. In a study break Harry told Ron about Zabini and even showed them the list.

Ron could only gape. "Blimey, Harry! Zabini! A _Slytherin_! Are you barmy? He will tell Malfoy and Parkinson, and Bulstrode!"

Madam Pince scowled at them.

"He will do no such thing," said Hermione coolly. "I made a new list and altered the jinxes a bit. I warned Zabini that if he told anyone whose name ist not on the list about the DA he would regret it. The only one who's able to scout is Harry."

"Cool. But we can recommend people, right?" Ron asked hopefully.

"Of course," answered Hermione for Harry. "They just better keep their mouths shut about the DA and let Harry handle it."

Ron seemed satisfied with that. He turned back to his own pile of homework, and the time until dinner passed with studying.

Harry couldn't eat. His stomach had turned into cold slime, and his legs shook a bit. Ron and Hermione watched him in sympathy, but this agony was something Harry had to deal with alone, and nothing could change that.

At eight o'clock sharp Harry knocked on Snape's door.

"Enter," said Snape.

Harry entered and closed the door behind him. He noticed that Snape had rearranged his office for their lesson. And the Pensieve already stood in the cupboard, between glasses that were filled with slimy, vile things.

"Wand out, Potter," commanded Snape. "Did you practise?"

"I tried," said Harry. "Sir."

"We'll see. _Legilimens_!"

Harry ground his teeth together and fought with every fibre against the intrusion. Pictures of his birthday flew by … Sirius when he laughed … Blaise in the library …

"_Out_!" hissed Harry. He lashed back at Snape and unknowingly cast a Reductor Curse.

He found himself kneeling on the floor, sweating and breathing hard, but the wand was still in his hand. Snape examined a hole in his floor.

"Good, Potter," he sneered. "But I would appreciate it if you would try to block me _mentally_. And please refrain from destroying my office."

Harry scowled. He stood up and looked defiantly at Snape.

"You still let me in too deep, Potter," said Snape softly. "_Legilimens_!"

Harry watched in horror as his first catastrophic day in elementary school floated by … Dudley as he was attacked by Dementors … a pair of old socks for Christmas … his parents, dying in a flash of green light …

A flash of hot, searing rage surged through Harry, and he could faintly hear something crash before he came to his senses – this time lying flat on his back and staring up at the dreary ceiling.

"Stand up," snarled Snape.

Harry groaned when he did so. Several glass containers were broken, and the obnoxious green liquid poured out. Snape had cuts on his hands and one on his forehead.

"You should learn to control your magic, Potter," said Snape icily. "I'll go to the infirmary. Don't touch anything." His glare became murderous. "If you so much as breathe at that Pensieve, you're a dead man, Potter." He strode out of his destroyed office and slammed the door.

Harry felt vaguely guilty. He had harmed Snape's hands, and that must be the worst that could happen to a Potions Master. His legs shook but Harry managed to stand up. He gripped his wand tightly and cast a Scourgify Charm to clean the mess up and repair the containers. With a lot of concentration he even managed to get the main part of the liquid back in the containers. The rest vanished with a simple Evanesco Spell.

After that now he was tired. He plopped down on the chair in front of Snape's imposing desk. Why did the man have to make things so difficult? Why couldn't he explain things better? Harry thought bitterly that he might learn Occlumency quite well with a better teacher.

Snape came back after thirty minutes. His hands and forehead were healed, but the scowl was still visible on his face. When he saw that Harry had repaired the damage as well as he could, his sour expression softened a bit.

"You're in a fighting mood today, Potter," stated Snape in his dark voice. "It seems you really have practiced."

"I'm doing Eastern meditation," explained Harry stiffly. "But don't you think that these lessons will make it easier for Voldemort to gain access again?"

Snape visibly flinched, then growled. "You _still_ haven't learned not to use the Dark Lord's name!"

"Why should I?" said Harry defiantly. "That maniac wants to kill me. I think it's in my rights to call him whatever I want."

Snape blanched even more. "No, you stupid boy … The evil will come to places where its name is said …"

Harry thought that Snape was rather superstitious, but he decided not to argue about that right now.

"I still think that Voldemort will use the opportunity to come to my dreams, _Sir_."

For a moment Snape looked as if he was going to be sick. Then he regained his snappish manner and assaulted Harry three times more before he allowed him to go back to his dorm. The last attack on his mind was the match that made the hate Harry felt for Snape burn up like a roaring fire.

He felt weak and vulnerable when he returned to the common room. Hermione sat there, poring over some problem, but she looked up the instant he stepped through the portrait hole.

"How was it?" she asked softly.

"Don't ask," said Harry dully. "Tell Ron I'm in bed if he asks, okay?"

Hermione nodded. Harry could feel her brown eyes on him as he climbed up the stairs to the boys' dorm. Tired and exhausted as he was he still couldn't find rest. He really tried to relax with the meditation he had learned, but whenever he calmed down his past got to him, and the images of Dudley or Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia haunted him. They made him choke and he felt the sickening urge to just cry his heart out for once and get it over with.

He managed to fall asleep before Ron and the other boys came up to the dorm, but as predicted the sleep wasn't easy and restful. Instead Harry once more witnessed a Death Eater meeting. It held obviously no importance, and Harry could feel the faint pull from Voldemort. Even in his dream he could feel his scar burn slightly. It had been the Dark Lord who had lured him into his mind, using his troubled thoughts.

And even in his dream he was angry at Snape for prying his mind open for Voldemort, and for a moment he could feel a sickening glee that wasn't his own.

Harry woke up with a stifled scream. His scar prickled uncomfortably, but he deemed himself lucky that Voldemort and his minions hadn't played around with the Cruciatus Curse last night. They had just talked … talked about things, important things at that …

Thinking hard and fast Harry stumbled into the shower and washed the sweat away. Since when did Voldemort lure him into his mind when he had to talk about important things? A dreadful feeling spread out in his body. What if Voldemort wanted him to see what he had planned? Maybe it was something Harry couldn't prevent? Did he want him to suffer even more? Possibly. Probably.

The sinking feeling in his stomach didn't go away, and he knew that he needed to talk to Ron and Hermione.

At breakfast Harry was surrounded by DA members and decided to talk freely. In a quiet voice he told them about his dream and the strange feeling he had had while being stuck in Voldemort's body. Seamus was grossed out, Ron enraged ("You-Know-Who ordered Snape to weaken Harry's defence! And Snape _did_ it! Eat this, 'Mione! Snape's _evil_!") and Hermione had a very, very thoughtful expression on her face.

"Well," she suddenly said, "who of you guys are planning to try out for the Quidditch team?"

Everybody stared at her. Then the boys all started to talk at once, gesticulating wildly with their hands. Ginny, Colin and Dennis both jumped into the fight, and soon the whole table was in a tumult.

It was decided to play a bit of Quidditch as long as the field was free. Dean, Seamus, Colin, Dennis, Ginny, Ron and Harry took their brooms and ran out. Hermione went back into the Gryffindor common room to study.

Lunch was loud and cheery; the DA members were excited and looked forward to the first meeting in the Room of Requirement. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table. He caught Blaise's eyes and the boy winked at him, and then turned away to talk to Millicent Bulstrode.

Harry was the first in the seventh floor corridor. He wished for the DA room, and the door appeared. He opened it and waited for the first people to arrive.

Within the next fifteen minutes his friends and acquaintances trickled in. Blaise sauntered in, together with Luna and Cho. Harry was very grateful that she hadn't brought Marietta along. When everybody was in the room Harry closed the door and locked it.

All eyes were on him, and for the first time he truly relished in that feeling. He took a deep breath.

"Welcome back in the Room of Requirement," he said, grinning. "I'm very glad that you all are interested in keeping the DA alive. We even have a new member. I hope he'll be a good replacement for Marietta. Zabini, say hello."

The Slytherin turned around and waved cockily. Murmurs raced through the room at the news, and Zacharias Smith even asked if Harry was serious.

"I let _you_ in, Smith," said Harry coolly. "So, I'm sure Zabini will fit in, as well. Now, Hermione has designed a new list. For the sake of your trust I'll explain what it does." He took the list and showed his students that he, Hermione and Blaise already had signed. "If you sign that list you're bound to keep the DA meetings and its purpose a secret. You can't talk about it to a person whose signature isn't on this list once you've signed. The only person who can scout new members is me. I hope you understand that. Of course you can tell me if somebody has interest in learning more and fighting Voldemort. I'll check those students out and see if they're trustworthy. Okay?"

Everybody nodded in agreement. Parvati lifted her hand.

"Yes?"

"I, uh, already told my sister, Padma, about us. She wants to come, too." She looked sheepishly but pleadingly at Harry.

"All right, I'll ask Padma if she truly wants in. Anybody else?" Harry asked.

But no one had a suggestion. Harry was relieved. That would spare him trouble. He handed the list and a self-refilling quill to Seamus, and he signed eagerly. After him Ron signed, then Dean, Neville, Ginny, Luna, Parvati, Anthony Goldstein, Lavender …

"Okay," he called when the list was back in Hermione's hands. "I'm sure you all have seen the DADA curriculum hanging from your notice boards. _Our_ curriculum will _also_ include Charms, first aid in wand movements," he smirked at Dean, "And even a little bit of Transfiguration. I want us prepared, and I will prepare you well. This will be hard work, and I'm always open for new suggestions. If you have ideas for new curses and jinxes don't hesitate to tell me. If you have a spell that you can do particularly well you can teach it. I want us to be as interactive as possible. We are a team now, we are our own Order. We have to trust each other and we must be able to rely on each other." He looked to Blaise. "Zabini told me most of the Slytherins have been taught … special things. Zabini, are you willing to share what you know?"

"Why, yes, Potter," Blaise smirked. "I think it'll be fun."

"Good. I'm also reading about special summonings. I will tell you more later, right now I need us to decide when we will meet. Now that Umbridge is sacked," the whole DA smirked evilly, "we don't have to hide exactly. But since the DA is still supposed to be a secret organisation, I suggest we try to sneak away every weekend on Saturday or Sunday. You all have your fake galleons; if somebody can't attend, please tell me discreetly. All right?"

Luna raised her hand. "Will you confide in us when you dream of You-Know-Who?" she asked.

Harry tensed. "I don't know if that's such a good idea," he said stiffly.

"Nonsense!" said Dean loudly. "We're a defence group against Voldemort! We want to help you, Harry. You can tell us everything."

Surprisingly, Hermione agreed. "I think he's right, Harry," she said fiercely. "The more heads are thinking about things, the faster we might find a solution. And it's not like they could talk about it to people who do not belong to the DA." She threw Lavender and Parvati a dirty look. "Although _some_ people just have to learn how to keep their mouth shut."

Neville was the next to raise his hand. "Harry, are we telling Dumbledore?"

"I don't think that's necessary," said Harry. "I bet he already knows what we're up to."

Anthony nodded slowly. "So, when do we start with the training? Today? Or do we wait for the next meeting?"

"What do you want to wait for?" Harry asked, confusion evident in his voice. "I hope you all have your wands? Fine! Pair up, two people each group. We're going to revise the disarming spell today! Now, the first lesson, however, is the right wand movement. Hermione, would you please?"

Hermione stepped up to Harry, aimed and then waved her wand in the exact motion and disarmed Harry flawlessly.

"Did you see how she waved her wand? You have to move it precisely." He wished for a whistle, found one on a shelf and blew it.

Immediately shouts of "_Expelliarmus_!" were sounding through the large room. Wands clattered everywhere.

With pride Harry noticed that the practice was organised and everyone knew what to do. After a few minor corrections on Dean's and Cho's aim, he moved on to the summoning charm. Every time five students would aim at a pillow and try to summon it.

Blaise said "_Accio_!" so clearly that the pillow hit him square in the head, and the Gryffindors were in hysterics for a few minutes. Blaise just shrugged and laughed himself.

The next was the leg lock, then the total body bind spell. Here more students had problems. Luna accidentally bound Neville so much that he couldn't breathe and had to be rescued by Hermione. Hannah Abbott tripped Ron with a stray spell and apologised approximately twenty times. Zacharias Smith somehow managed to bind himself and Harry freed him with a smirk on his lips.

Most of the DA members wanted to train until lunch, so Harry let them revise the Levitation Charm (Hermione's most favourite classic example in wand movements) and the Reductor Curse.

Hermione had discovered a thick book with blank pages and had immediately started to list all the spells and jinxes they had revised today.

"Okay, that was a very good first lesson," Harry said when everybody had put their wands away. "I will ask Professor Dumbledore if he can get a Boggart for us, and I think Hagrid can give us other creatures to practice with, too. Please look up everything you know about Hinkypunks and Boggarts for the next meeting."

The DA agreed, and then Harry dismissed them and watched how they left slowly and in small groups.

When no one besides Ron and Hermione was left he turned to Hermione. "Do you think you can prepare for the theory when we are done revising our DA stuff from the last year?"

"Of course. In sixth year the curriculum contains shielding charms and defence against mind altering spells, curses, jinxes and potions. Don't worry, Harry. I'll drill you all so hard you'll pass the NEWT exam with a clear O."

Ron groaned good-naturedly. "At least I will get an O in _one_ subject, then."

Harry nodded in agreement. He couldn't care less if his actual sixth year grade was bad; it was the NEWTs that really counted, and for that they all prepared. For now they only had to concentrate on passing the year without raising suspicions.

The bell rang and called the hungry students into the Great Hall for lunch. They left the Room of Requirement and went down, carefully avoiding nosy students.

In the Great Hall the DA members talked animatedly about the first meeting. Several people discreetly thanked Harry for his efforts. Alicia, Katie and Angelina grinned at them conspiratorially and sat down at the end of the table.

"I wish we still had Fred and George with us," sighed Ron wistfully. "We could find out how to use their inventions against Death Eaters …"

"_Ron_!" hissed Harry. "You're a genius!" He clapped Ron on the back and started to wolf his food down.

Hermione nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, fantastic, Ron! We'll talk later!" She elbowed Ginny and told her to come see them later.

It had been predictable, really, but Harry was still surprised how eager the members of the DA who were in Gryffindor waited for his newest idea to be announced. He sighed and looked them in the eyes. In a wide circle Lee Jordan, Alicia, Angelina, Katie, Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Ginny, Ron, Dean, Seamus, Hermione, Dennis and Colin sat around the fire of the Gryffindor common room and looked expectantly at him.

"Ron here had a very good idea," said Harry, a bit unsettled bout their rapt attention. "He suggested that we could ask Fred and George to tell us how we could use their inventions as possible weapons against attackers." Appreciative murmurs broke out, and the boys and girls began talking excitedly. "However," said Harry in a warning voice, "we must be careful. A year is short and I'd rather see that you can do as many hexes and curses as possible, and as well as possible. If we have time between Hermione's DADA lectures, the DA training and normal school, then we can experiment with weapons, all right?"

Most of them nodded, only Lee Jordan seemed to be a bit disappointed.

"I will talk about it at the next meeting," promised Harry, "And maybe we can vote. Ron and Ginny, would you write a letter to Fred and George and ask them about their stuff? Maybe you could code it, in case the owl is intercepted."

Ron and Ginny nodded, their faces bright and proud. "Don't worry, we have a family code," assured Ginny. "And they will know what to do, Harry."

Harry was satisfied and a huge weight seemed to lift from his heart. The DA was working again … they trusted him … and he felt good being a leader. He would share the responsibility with Hermione and Ron and everyone who had something to teach … the burden was already shrinking, and he had friends to rely on.

The group scattered. Dennis and Colin talked merrily about their quest to photograph the hands of their teachers. They already had photographed the hands of Flitwick, Hagrid and Dumbledore, Sinistra and Trelawney.

Harry smiled happily and got up in his dorm to retrieve the book Hagrid had given him. Now he finally had some time to read about the summoning of wild beasts and magical animals.

--------

The next week passed in a blur. On Monday Harry had his first Apparating class, and he was really looking forward to it. Their instructor was, again, Madam Hooch, who had taught them how to fly on a broomstick in their very first year at Hogwarts. Harry remembered very fondly the day when Malfoy had stolen Neville's Remembrall and he had gotten it back and, on top of that, become the youngest Seeker in one century of Hogwarts' history.

"Welcome to your Apparating class," said Madam Hooch in her clear, sharp voice. Her yellow eyes glared at the students, daring them to do something stupid. "You Gryffindors are the last of this year. The others managed to behave so far."

"Even the Slytherins?" Seamus asked cockily.

"Even the Slytherins," confirmed Hooch. "Now, let's get started. Who can tell me something about the theory?"

Unsurprisingly Hermione raised her hand.

"Yes, Granger?"

"Apparating is the ability to switch one's body between two places. It is almost unimportant how big the distance is, but it is a commonly known fact that wizards and witches shouldn't try to Apparate over the ocean." She took a deep breath and then continued. "Furthermore the art of Apparating is based almost completely on willpower. The magic works without a wand which means the wizards or witch who wants to Apparate has to think very clearly of his or her destination and let the magic pull the body behind."

"Very good, Miss Granger. Ten points to Gryffindor. Now, can somebody tell me why it is so dangerous to Apparate over long distances and without the proper concentration?"

Of course Hermione raised her hand again, but Hooch ignored her in favour of Harry, who had heard quite a bit about it from Sirius and Remus and tried to partake in the questioning.

"It's dangerous because without the proper concentration on the specific destination the body splinches and leaves bodily parts of the witch or wizard in either place," said Harry, grinning. "The effect is reversible but highly unpleasant and is punished by the Ministry of Magic because of the danger of being seen by Muggles."

"Another five points for Gryffindor." Hooch started to pace over the lawn. "The concentration is an important part. It also depends on your will. If somebody has a strong will they will master the art of Apparating in no time. If someone is easily distracted then it will be difficult." She smiled grimly at Neville's sad "Oh no ...".

"But don't worry. This is for you only. You won't get grades for Apparating. There will be, however, the licence test in the Easter holidays next year. All those who are interested can take the test then for free. Once you're out of school and want to do the test you will have to pay. Understood?" She glared once more, and then resumed her pacing. "It is also necessary to attend at least fifteen lessons before you can take the test."

Harry was giddy. It sounded cool, and he had been envious of Fred and George ever since they had started Apparating in every place and corner of their house in the summer before his fifth year and in Grimmauld Place this summer.

Hooch bellowed at them to pay attention. "I'll demonstrate now how it is done. Look closely!"

She took one deep breath, and then, with a hearty POP, vanished from her spot. With another she appeared right behind Lavender who jumped in surprise.

"Did you see my wand? No! It is your own willpower and your magic, remember. Now let's get started." She threw a bright red patchwork blanket on the lawn. "This is your destination point. Everyone of you will step forward and try to Apparate to that blanket. You just have to think very hard of the red blanket. Let's see what happens." She turned fully. "Who wants to go first?"

Hermione stepped forward determinedly. "Madam? Are you able to reverse splinching?" she asked dryly.

"Yes, Granger. Now try your luck."

Hermione closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One could clearly see how hard she willed her magic to work. She frowned, but nothing happened.

Hooch called the next student. "This can happen. If somebody is particularly unsure or afraid, then the hardest determination won't help."

Hermione huffed. But Harry could clearly see that she didn't fully trust their instructor to desplinch them if something happened.

The next one was Lavender, but she didn't manage much, only a slight flicker of her body.

Harry watched the line of students with mild interest. It didn't matter to him if he did it right the first time. They had time until the Easter holidays, and he was here to learn it, not to get it right this instant.

Dean, who was a catastrophe with his wand sometimes_,_ seemed to be a natural in Apparating. He vanished from his spot and plopped back on the red blanket in a heap.

"Wonderful, Thomas," Hooch said with a hint of pride. "If you work on your landing your licence won't be a problem at all."

Dean glowed with excitement, and when Hooch awarded him fifteen points he was floating on air.

After Parvati it was Harry's turn. He regarded the red blanket with slight hesitation. What if he couldn't do _anything_? And what if he landed in the Whomping Willow because he got distracted in the last second possible?

"Come on, Potter," said Hooch. "It's just a measly four metres. Try it already."

So Harry braced himself, closed his eyes briefly and thought of the blanket. That he wanted to be there this instant.

The cheering brought him back. He wondered why they were yelling like mad. He hadn't even _started_, had he? He turned around in confusion. Then down at his shoes.

Green.

"Potter, why aren't you standing on the blanket?" Hooch asked, obviously irritated.

He looked to his right and froze. There was the blanket. He had _done_ it, but he stood next to the blanket, not on it.

"My shoes are dirty," he said meekly. "Didn't want to soil it."

His classmates groaned good-naturedly, and Hooch's eyes brimmed with wonderment and pride.

"Well, Mr Potter. This is a blanket for training. You may step on it as much as you want. Now go back there and try it again. And this time I want to see you standing _on_ it."

Harry nodded and marched back. His friends clapped him on the shoulders, and he distinctly thought that Sirius must have been right. Both his parents were good at Apparating, and he was good too, obviously. He tried to keep his eyes open this time when he thought of the red blanket. And this time he heard the popping sound, too. Only a moment later he saw his friends again, and this time he really stood on the blanket.

He was very confused. He didn't feel a thing, not even the flow of his magic. He was just there, and the next moment he had changed places … It was almost disconcerting, but he was also glad that he could rely on this ability in future fights if he had to get out of somewhere, and fast.

"Twenty points to Gryffindor, Potter," said Madam Hooch sharply in approval.

The next was Ron. Encouraged by Harry's success he did it on his second try, although his landing could have been better. Every student got at least three turns, and even Hermione, who was more scared of splinching herself than Neville, managed to overcome her fears and Apparate. But when she did it, it was as accurate as all the other things she did.

It is needless to say that the trio was overjoyed. They all planned on passing their test with flying colours and silently agreed to train as hard as they could. And now that this that this was no longer an obstacle. Harry had every intention on moving on to Animagus training as quickly as possible.

Other than that the week was simply stuffed. Harry did not even have time to think about Voldemort with all the homework the teachers gave them. Ron was already groaning and whining like Moaning Myrtle. And it didn't get better. Snape was particularly demanding in his advanced course, and Harry was sweating over his homework assignments and the potions they were going to brew. Professor McGonagall was equally demanding, she just voiced it differently. She decided that the colour changing spells needed revising, so Harry and Ron fought with their frogs and tried to get them red, blue or green. Hermione, of course, was outstanding as always and could hex them to take on particularly difficult colours like rose red, mud brown or sky blue.

Only in Charms could Harry relax a little. Flitwick introduced them to a stronger lock opening spell than _Alohomora_. The _Abriara_ spell was much stronger and could even open difficult padlocks. Harry had already taught it in the DA and used the time for a third opening charm which was even stronger than the other two.

"_Ovihara_ is the best spell to blast heavy locked doors," Hermione explained in a hushed voice so Flitwick wouldn't hear her. "It can even take medium heavy wards down. Here … try it, Harry. Remember the wand movement … it's important …"

"_Ovihara_," Harry hissed and aimed at the small practice steel door which was locked with three padlocks and two bolts. He had every intention to blast that damned door open-

To his own surprise the door banged open so violently that one of the locks hit Lavender in the shoulder and the bolts flew everywhere.

"Wow," Harry said into the stunned silence. Hermione's proud smile lifted his spirits and he decided to teach the DA this spell, too.

DADA was a fiasco. Professor Blackadder forced them to learn the pagan holidays and bored them all with the different religions that practiced the Magic of Mother Earth. Harry had copied the next chapter of the beast summoning book onto parchment and read that instead of the stupid book Blackadder wanted them to read. He was in no particular hurry to get high marks. School, after all, was not everything.

Professor Sprout quizzed them on Monday, and both Hufflepuff and Gryffindor had earned a nice number of points for their houses.

Hagrid was back to his usual, cheery self. This week he revised Unicorns, and, strangely enough, under his surveillance the Unicorns even allowed the boys to pet them.

"Don' know who told yer this rubbish," Hagrid grumbled when Lavender told him what Professor Grubbly-Plank had taught them. "They just want yer ter be pure. It doesn' matter if yer' boy or girl. They don' prefer either."

Harry filed that away for later and petted a silvery unicorn on the nose. It looked at him with huge, mercury eyes and snorted softly.

Harry's Occlumency lesson didn't go well. This week he became so angry that he almost set the whole office on fire, but he didn't manage to shut Snape's mind out successfully. Only once he pushed so deep down as he _did_ manage to fight Snape off, that he saw glimpses of an exposed forearm, a wand, and a cold voice that said something in Parsel tongue … a faint echo of a blood-chilling scream … agony …

Then, on Saturday, the Quidditch tryouts for all four houses took place. Ron led the Gryffindors to the field. McGonagall, Hooch, Snape, Dumbledore, Flitwick and Sprout were there.

"Hufflepuff starts," yelled Hooch over the heads of the students. "Captains, organise your lot! Yes … Mount your brooms … Go!"

Hufflepuff was quickly done. They only needed two new players and decided quickly. The next were Ravenclaw. Cho retired as Seeker. Instead of her a lively fourth year, Johnny Hough, would be the Seeker.

Then it was Slytherin's turn. Not unlike Gryffindor, they needed new Chasers and Beaters. The Beater position was quickly filled with Crabbe and Goyle who had a lot of muscles. As Chaser finally Blaise, Pansy and, to her own surprise, Millicent succeeded.

Ron was rightfully nervous as he led his team and the candidates onto the field. They would determine some Beaters first. Dean and Seamus soared up with the others and started to beat the Bludgers so viciously that Ron took them instantly. Angelina, Katie and Alicia tried out Ginny, Colin and Dennis as Chasers. Parvati had declined after thinking long and hard about possible lesions. They tried them one with two experienced Chasers, two with one experienced Chaser and finally all three of the candidates had to play on the field. Of course, they weren't perfect but Ron remembered his own situation all too well. He was satisfied. With practice they would grow to be a team, and a good one at that.

The next DA meeting on Sunday was as exciting as the first one. Harry continued revising their last year's curriculum and correcting the mistakes of the others, and Hermione could announce her first DADA lesson for the next meeting. She asked the others to bring parchment and ink. She even promised to try and teach as Professor Lupin once had taught them.

Blaise became a respected member very quickly. He was jovial and communicative, and now that he was without his Slytherin friends the others quickly got to know him.

After that week the next week followed, and the next, and then it was already October and the regular Quidditch season started. The DA was in full training mode now. Those who were members had a doubled load of homework, but Hermione had the most work of all. She not only worked out the lesson plans, but also corrected the homework and still helped Ron and Harry with their work load. Harry tried to thank her by buying half the chocolate of Honeyduke's for her on the first Hogsmeade weekend. He sheepishly told her that she could need the chocolate with all the thinking she did. How true it was. During the course of these weeks Hermione had lost some weight and she looked a lot more mature than before. Sometimes Harry worried about her.

The dreams with Voldemort came back on a regular basis, and every single time Harry could tell that he was being pulled in, not landing there by chance. He told the DA of his dreams; sometimes it was torture, cold and brutal with nothing important for Harry to make enduring it a bit easier, sometimes Voldemort discussed his plans with his minions, and then they guessed together what that could mean.

-------

On Monday, October the sixth, Harry met Lucius Malfoy again. The tall, blond man strode down the hallway, obviously intending to visit Dumbledore in his office. Harry decided to follow him, wand in hand. But somehow Malfoy sensed that he was there because he stopped dead in his tracks and turned.

"Mr Potter," he sneered. "What a pleasure to meet you again. Did you want something?"

Harry was so perplexed that he stuttered stupidly. "I - yes. What do you want here?"

"I didn't know it was forbidden for me to visit the school that educates my son, Mr Potter," Malfoy replied, sneering even more. He approached Harry with sure, arrogant steps and stopped in front of him. His grey eyes watched him intently, measuring him, then stared him in the eyes. "Merlin, Potter, you reek of magic," he whispered softly, inquisitively.

Harry froze. It was true, he had practiced some spells for McGonagall and Flitwick in an unused classroom, but _how_ could Malfoy tell?

"Maybe," he said coldly. "And don't tell me this is a social call, Malfoy, because it is not."

Malfoy smirked. "I will leave that to your imagination, Mr Potter. You will surely … discover … my evil plans. Good evening." With a last smirk he turned around. Silvery blond hair rustled in the soft breeze that wafted through all corridors, and then he was gone.

Harry scowled. Then he decided it might be better to go down into the Great Hall for lunch. He was starving.

"What?" Hermione asked sharply when he was done telling them. "Malfoy is in the castle?"

"And I think he gave me another hint, that stuck up prick," growled Harry. "He said something about discovering evil plans." He thought deeply, and the others already had gone back to eating. But then he snapped up suddenly and startled them badly. "Do you remember what I keep telling you about my dreams? That Voldemort pulls me into these meetings? As if he _wants_ me to see what he's planning? Obviously that is part of some bigger plan!"

"That's all good and merry," said Seamus slowly. "But we really should find out _wha_t it is that they plan."

"Oh," said Harry bitterly, "Voldemort will come around eventually, I'm sure."

"Why would Malfoy of all people tell you something like that?" Ginny asked sceptically. "Sure, those morons are very confident of themselves, but even he shouldn't spill his master's secrets."

"I think he would spill even more if Harry would pretend to listen," said Ron hatefully. "That Malfoy loves to talk in riddles." He stabbed his steak angrily. The Daily Prophet had written only last week that some departments of the Ministry were going to be closed. Such as the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office where Ron and Ginny's dad worked.

"Who knows when he will be here the next time," said Harry glumly. "And I'm not keen on seeing him, either."

The matter was settled for them. Harry didn't want to think about Voldemort because that led him back to Snape who was supposed to help him block out such intrusions of his dreams; and Ron had other things on his mind. He was very busy training the Quidditch team.

The first match of the season was Ravenclaw against Slytherin, and Blaise talked Harry into watching although he had wanted to read more in Hagrid's book.

Harry, Ron and Hermione stood on the spectator's tower close to the Slytherin curve and cheered for the Ravenclaw team. It was a stormy, cloudy day, but it didn't rain. Harry really wanted to cheer Blaise on – after all the boy had been very friendly to them, and he wanted to pay him back with being a good friend himself, but knowing that it would raise suspicions if he cheered for a Slytherin he regretfully let it slide.

After the graduation of Flint and Montague, the Slytherin team was considered a bit fairer, but Crabbe and Goyle as Beaters were simply brutal. They smashed the Bludgers against the Ravenclaw Chasers, attacked the Seeker who was too inexperienced to avoid the blows, and thus the Slytherins won the game because there was only one Seeker left on the field. Draco Malfoy caught the Snitch after only twelve minutes, but looked a bit ill as he saw how Madam Pomfrey carried Johnny Hough from the field on a stretcher. Crabbe and Goyle let their muscles play and smirked malevolently.

"That's …," Hermione tried to say. "That's just … sick! They should be kicked off the team this instant! They have caused more fouls in one game than Flint in his whole career!" She whirled around to Ron. "You have to do something! Go to McGonagall and speak with her!"

Harry could see Blaise looking up to where he stood, and the worry radiated off his body.

"I think Blaise needs to talk," whispered Harry. "Let's meet him."

Ravenclaw had been crushed by Slytherin, but no one of the other three houses cared. Johnny was in the infirmary with broken arms and a heavy concussion. It had been an attack, not a Quidditch accident - that much was clear.

At lunch Dumbledore looked very grave. He talked with Professor Snape who looked equally troubled. Every now and then McGonagall would say something to both of them.

Harry tried to eat something, but he couldn't. Crabbe and Goyle's unfair attack was the gossip at all tables. At least, Harry noticed, the Slytherins weren't gloating about it. If anything the younger ones looked crestfallen and the older ones even more contemplative than usual.

Harry also noticed that Malfoy was still pale. He pushed his kidney pie away and stood up. He desperately needed to walk a little to release the tension. From the corner of his eye he saw Blaise talking to Malfoy.

He had barely reached the second floor when Blaise caught up with him.

"Let's go in there," he said quietly, pointing to a door that led to an old, unused classroom. "Come on …"

They slid in and closed and locked the door behind them.

"It was awful," Blaise suddenly blurted out, "I mean, I know that kid, it's my half sister's cousin on her mother's side or something like that … I don't understand it … How _could_ they?"

Harry pulled Blaise to a desk and motioned him to sit down.

"Do they have the Dark Mark?" he asked softly.

"No," said the Slytherin distractedly, "Not yet. But they're planning to get it. They already get orders from their parents …" He looked at Harry, and his eyes became wet. "Harry, I really worry about you. I mean, it's probably not much, coming from me, but–"

"Don't say that," Harry interrupted him firmly. He had a lump in his throat. It hurt to see the one Slytherin that had befriended him suffer. "It means very much." He awkwardly petted Blaise's shoulder.

"I think they have orders to harm you during the Quidditch matches," said Blaise quietly. "Today might have been a practice for them … Please, you have to learn some shielding spells against physical attacks … something!"

"Calm down. I'll see what I can find. Thanks for your help, Blaise."

"There's something else," said Blaise quickly, lifting his head. "Draco might be interested. You saw how shaken he was. Please, try something, anything to win him over! I swear he's not interested in bowing down to Voldemort. Help him, they'll skin him alive if they find out …"

"Malfoy? Are you serious?" Harry asked sharply. "You _do_ know that he hates me. Merlin, I hate him back twice as much!"

"I know," said Blaise fiercely. "But you didn't kick Smith out when he talked back to you the other day." He sighed wearily and pushed some strands of his long hair back. "I really fear for him, Harry."

Harry thought quickly. "Oh, very well. You can try and convince him, but I need to be sure that he's trustworthy, Blaise. I can't afford to lose the DA now."

"Thank you," Blaise whispered. He wiped his eyes and sighed again. ,,I'll be careful."

Blaise left first, and Harry wondered if he could slip in a few extra lessons with the Quidditch team for protection spells. But then again it didn't concern only the team. He thought it only fair to involve the whole DA.

He left the room and ran up to the seventh floor, frantically wishing for their DA room. As soon as the door appeared he yanked it open, ran through, locked it and then stormed to the bookshelves.

"I need a damn good book about protection spells," he muttered again and again. A book with an appropriate title came into sight. "Ha! Got you!" It was really convenient that the sixth years had to learn how to protect themselves with shields of all sorts anyway. But he had the feeling that the spell he was looking for wasn't on the curriculum.

He took the book "_Protect and be protected_" and flipped to the index. There were protection spells for the most varied of reasons, and he finally found one that served his purpose.

"The _Protecto Corpus_ protects the body from severe physical damage and harm. The caster has to point his wand sharply at the attacker/attacking object and concentrate to build a magical wall. The caster has to think about his most strong moment to build the wall. If it is done properly the wall shimmers faintly violet and can even stop cannon heads from doing harm," Harry read out loud. He frowned and took his wand. "Dobby?"

Dobby popped in and looked at Harry. "Yes? What can Dobby do for Harry Potter?"

"Dobby, would you like to help me?"

------

Harry was a bit nervous at the next DA meeting. The students were still in an uproar because of that very first Quidditch match. He had to blow his whistle a few times before they were quiet enough to talk to them.

"Today I'm giving you an express lesson in protection spells," announced Harry. "I don't want to argue about it, just do it, okay? I want to prevent events like the one during the Quidditch match from happening. You all know how much damage a Bludger can do. Therefore I want to teach you the _Protecto Corpus_ spell. It's not hard to learn, but you need to concentrate."

Some of the Quidditch players were downright relieved that Harry had come up with a possibility to protect them.

"Okay. Divide into pairs … good. Do you see these pillows? One partner will throw the pillows at the other, and you try to perform the spell. Neville, would you assist me, please?"

Neville walked up to Harry, took the pillow that lay in front of him and gazed at Harry questioningly.

"Now, you'll hold up your wand this way–," he jabbed hard in Neville's direction, "-and think about your strongest moment. It works almost like the Patronus Charm. You call _Protecto Corpus_ while pointing at the attacker." He stared at Neville, then suddenly jabbed his wand in a swift and snakelike movement at him and yelled, "_Protecto Corpus_!" A shimmering wall of magic power appeared and shielded his body.

Faint _oohs_ and _ahhs_ were running through the room.

"The shield is supposed to look like that. Now I want everybody to concentrate on moments where you felt particularly strong or confident … As if nothing could harm you …" He gave them a few minutes and then blew the whistle.

The room was filled with laughing students who threw fluffy pillows at each other and yelled "_Protecto Corpus_!". Harry watched Cho with a bemused expression on his face. She was practicing with Luna, but she simply couldn't get her shield up. He finally decided to ask her what was wrong.

"Oh Harry! I just can't think of a time where I have been strong," she sniffled desperately. "Ever since … ever since … he died I haven't felt strong …"

"But you felt strong when you could call upon your Patronus for the first time, didn't you?" Harry asked. "Try that. Remember the feeling you got then and try it. Or try the memory of Umbridge running through the castle in fury, chasing fireworks."

"Okay," she said meekly.

Luna's big, misty eyes looked at him. "You're very good at this, Harry," she said with a faint smile. "How long did you practice for that spell?"

Harry grinned. "Not very long. When I found out what I needed to think about, it was remarkably easy. It's like the Patronus charm, really. That's why it is so good, too."

Luna nodded and proceeded to throw the pillow against Cho's head. "Do you really think you'll need it?"

"Yes," he said. Luna didn't seem to want to talk more about it, so he left her and Cho in favour of Hannah Abbott and Zacharias Smith.

At the end of the lesson everybody had at least managed to bring the shield up. Some didn't have the right colour or dissolved into thin air when the pillow hit them, but a lot of them were strong enough to hold the pillows and fluff balls. Harry had even practiced with baseballs and other, even heavier objects. His wall was invincible. Everybody hoped that it could shield him from a Bludger at full speed.

Suddenly Cho raised her hand. "Um, Harry? I have a question … The formula is rather long … What if the Bludger is too fast for you to say the spell in time?"

Harry, of course, had thought about that problem a while ago. But he thought he had found a suitable explanation.

"I suppose it's like … growing into your magic, you know? Did anyone of you see your parents doing magic? Daily chores, for example?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "Mom. Washing the dishes or peeling potatoes."

"And she never says a word, only waves her wand and it happens, right?" Everybody was stunned. Harry smiled and explained further. "It seems that the more often we use spells the easier they are to perform, and at some point we can even stop saying the words. We just have to let our magic work. It is quicker and more precise. Your mind is doing the work, not your mouth."

Even Hermione watched him with approval.

"Can you prove that?" Zacharias Smith asked in a bored voice.

"Yes. I tried it with several spells. Watch out." Harry dimmed the light with a swish of his wand, and then suddenly the tip of his wand ignited.

"You just did _Lumos_!" Ron roared. "Cool!"

"Very good," grinned Harry. He put the lights back on, then he waved his wand shortly and a fluffy pillow rushed into his arm. "That was _Accio_. It is funny, actually, how much you can do without speaking a word." His face became serious. "I think you all should try that in a spare minute. It could save your life one day."

His words were solemn, and so were the faces when the DA scattered. Harry and his friends dawdled, as always. Luna was roaming the room and occasionally picking things up, shrinking them and putting them away.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Ginny asked curiously.

Luna smiled lazily. "In a few days is New Year, of course. I have to prepare my ritual."

"How convenient for you, then," said Hermione, smiling.

Luna dreamily hummed and patted the pocket where she had put her purchases. "I found everything."

"What New Year?" Ron asked stupidly. "It's Halloween!"

"For Wiccans Halloween is the actual end of the old and the beginning of the new year. Did you ever wonder why it is said that ghosts are haunting the living that night?" said Hermione, miffed that Ron hadn't noticed the obvious implication.

"The shift between dying and living, death and rebirth leaves a rift between the dead and the living," said Luna happily. "That's our time to call upon loved ones and tell the others to bugger off."

Harry laughed. "Sounds good. Well, good luck then with your ritual," he said sincerely. "And greet your mother from me if you talk to her."

"Will do," she said simply and left, humming a merry tune.

--------

Halloween always had been the holiday at Hogwarts that Harry enjoyed the most. It had been the first holiday at his new school, and he still found himself awed at the sheer amount of sweets and food they were gifted with.

Of course, Professor Blackadder had her own ideas. After some utterly failed tests at banning common Fairies from a garden with Venus traps and other flesh eating plants, or getting rid of a Knarl plague with offerings of plum wine to the Goddess of the Earth, Hermione was so upset that she needed to leave the classroom to calm down.

Harry had to admit that Blackadder's lesson suspiciously looked like simple gardening tips, and he carefully pointed out that no one wanted to get rid of Fairies, and that Knarls hardly could be considered a plague. In fact, they were not even considered dark creatures which made the lesson senseless in the first place.

The twenty point loss hadn't been pretty.

Well, now, one day before the sacred Halloween, Professor Blackadder tried to make them sing blessed songs and burn herbs. Fortunately Lavender convinced her to tell tales about the night of the living dead, and the two periods' time was, if not used for better things, at least not spent in boredom and utter embarrassment.

The Friday was free and they had special permission to go to Hogsmeade, and there would, of course, be the usual feast in the evening.

It was very cold outside. Harry, Hermione and Ron trudged down the path to Hogsmeade. The air was crisp and clear, but the sky was covered with heavy clouds. The three of them were wrapped up in their cloaks, scarves and mittens. Their wands were carefully hidden in their sleeves. All members of the DA were frighteningly quick at drawing their wands since Harry's motto was "Better safe than sorry". Ron had joked that they could easily Apparate by now, but unfortunately the teachers kept track of those who were able to do so.

"Uh, Harry? How are your Occlumency lessons proceeding?" Hermione asked when they were in safe distance from the other students. "I mean, you keep having these dreams …"

"Yes, I do have them still. But you know what? I actually believe I'm getting better. The pull I feel is becoming stronger," said Harry, frowning. "It's kind of weird, really. Half of the time I'm spending in Voldemort's mind I could imagine at least ten places where I would rather be."

Now Hermione had a very thoughtful look on her face. "You know Harry, at first I actually thought you'd become paranoid, reading so much from Malfoy's words, but _now_ I can almost see …"

"What? What can you see?" Ron demanded to know.

Harry wanted to know, too, but he knew better than to press Hermione for half thought ideas. She could be scary when being interrupted in her thinking. And it was easier to let Hermione put the pieces of the puzzle together. She was used to it, and Harry was already thinking and learning more than he ever had before.

Finally Ron let the topic slide. Well, that wasn't difficult. He was distracted by Parvati and Padma who were walking by in their best twin attire. Their long, ebony hair shimmered in the wan light and Ron craned his neck to see them.

Hermione just tutted and dragged him along. Harry hid his smile. It was a known fact that Ron and Hermione had a thing or two for each other, although neither of them ever acted on it.

Harry suddenly remembered Dean and Seamus' plan to give their teachers their respective hand readings on New Year's Eve.

"Did Colin manage to get a photo of Snape's hands yet?" he asked, completely startling his friends.

"Yes, yes," said Hermione distractedly. "I wanted to ask you to lend me your Divination book, anyway …"

Harry frowned. Hermione was rarely distracted like this. Well, even she needed a moment of peace sometimes – or a good night's rest for that matter. But he believed that she had learned her lesson after her escapade with the Time Turner and the ensuing symptoms.

Hogsmeade wasn't that interesting anymore. Harry caught himself wishing he had stayed in the castle to finish the book about summoning wild animals, or maybe fine-tuning his protection spell … Hermione also had a dazed expression and didn't even really enjoy the feeling of leather and paper between her hands as she perused the bookshelves in the bookstore. Only Ron was truly enjoying himself. He raided Honeyduke's, went all hyper in Zonko's and mooned over Madam Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks.

Soon Ginny, her boyfriend Dean, and Seamus joined them. Neville was on his way through the maze of tables and chairs. When he was seated Harry ordered a round of Butterbeer.

"Friends, I have to discuss a very serious matter with you," he said in a solemn voice that made the mischief vanish more quickly than Snape could say, "Twenty points from Gryffindor". He took a great swig of his beer, and then cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, I know you all go along well with Blaise, and I consider him an important part of the DA now. My problem is now that he has asked me several times to scout Malfoy."

He didn't need to wait long for the explosion.

"_What_?!" shrieked Ron, spilling his Butterbeer in rage. "How can he even _suggest_ such a thing?!"

Dean and Seamus looked slightly troubled, Neville had a look of hate on his round face. Only Ginny seemed unconcerned.

"Oh yes, Ron, people in Birmingham might not have heard you," said Hermione sarcastically. "Honestly, you're such an _idiot_ sometimes!" She whipped her wand out and cast a silencing charm around the table.

Harry sighed. "Ron, calm down. I reacted quite like you did, but Blaise is deadly serious. He believes that Draco will be in trouble shortly. He doesn't want to take the Dark Mark. He has practically begged me to take Draco in and train him, so that he'll be able to defend himself."

"And can attack us," snapped Ron. "Think about it, Harry. There have been wolves in sheep's skins before."

"That's the point," agreed Harry. "I simply don't know if I should take him in. But I really hate it to see Blaise so worried. I mean, he's a Slytherin who actually cares about us, and he could be very valuable in the future."

"Harry's right," said Hermione, rational as always in such matters. "We need our own wolves in other sheep herds, so to speak. And Malfoy could be a powerful ally."

"Or the downfall of the DA," said Dean. "Sorry, but I'm against the idea."

Ginny looked Harry in the eyes and understood his predicament. "I say we wait a bit longer and see how things progress. Harry can tell Zabini that we're in no position to take Malfoy in, because we can't trust him. But I don't want to see him devastated either. So I suggest we propose a temporary guard for Malfoy until we can decide what to do."

"Sounds fair," admitted Dean. "And with a real task the DA will work even harder."

Harry was relieved. Now he at least had something he could tell Blaise. He still didn't trust Malfoy, not even as far as he could throw him, but serious things had to be going on in Slytherin house to make one of the snakes come to the lions for help.

Besides, he really, really hated it when Blaise's eyes were darkened in worry.

Hermione and Harry finally decided to leave Hogsmeade early and finish some reading. Harry had vowed to himself that he would read the whole book on summoning beasts first before he started to try summoning anything. He would also ask Hagrid for advice.

Ron was surprisingly not that mad at them for abandoning him. Harry suspected strongly that Parvati was the reason, but decided not to say it.

For once Hermione didn't question Harry, and the walk back to Hogwarts was surprisingly enjoyable. They went up to their respective dorms, took their books and met again in the common room and curled up on the sofa. She didn't even ask him what he was reading; she immediately disappeared behind her thick book about herbs and other things that could be used in potions. It might have been the newest edition of _Thousand Herbs and Fungi_.

The evening came quickly and with it the feast. Satisfied Harry finished the last page just in time. Now he could really try to see if all the reading would be good for something. Hermione made a little noise in her seat, and Harry needed a few seconds to comprehend that she had been yawning. Ron wasn't back yet, but both could imagine that he would head straight to the Gryffindor table and stuff himself with the delicacies the House Elves had cooked for them. Grinning, Harry took the book back to his dorm.

On their way down to the Great Hall, Harry and Hermione saw Lucius Malfoy stalk along the hallway and turn left at the end of it.

"I wonder what he's doing here …," Hermione thought out loud.

"I wonder all the time," said Harry dryly. "Come, let's eat, I'm really famished."

The Great Hall was merrily adorned with a flotilla of scarily glowing pumpkin faces, candles and lanterns floating high above, and the tables were groaning under the weight of all the delicious food. Students sat at their house tables and ate with a fervour that had never been seen in the classrooms for the dry things teachers tried to teach. Ghosts were carrying colourful garlands through the Hall and made a beautiful spectacle of it.

And truly, Ron already sat there, together with Dean, Ginny and Seamus and was laughing loudly. Neville bumped into Harry.

"Hey, Neville, there's enough for all of us," Lee Jordan joked.

"Sorry, Harry," said Neville. "I, uh, wanted to see you anyway. Zabini is waiting outside." He looked pleadingly at Harry. "He looks a bit off …"

"All right. I'll be right back, guys. Save me a seat, okay?"

They waved at him and Harry left.

Blaise stood hidden in a niche and looked worn out and even more sorrowful than in the weeks before.

"You talked with them, right?" the Slytherin asked without preamble.

Harry nodded. "But they are against it. They say that they can't trust Malfoy. They trust you, but not him. Sorry."

Blaise gave a quiet, choked sound. "It was to be expected … And I even understand you. But … but …"

Harry watched in horror as tears slowly made their way down Blaise's handsome face.

"Uh, but we found a compromise that might work," he hastened to say. He was always overwhelmed when people cried in his presence. He felt he really sucked at comforting. "They will look out for Malfoy and protect him should he get in trouble. Ginny suggested that we wait and see what happens …"

"That's something," sniffled Blaise. "I'm just so worried." He blinked and then he smiled softly. "I really need to thank you, Harry …"

He stepped away from the cold wall and neared Harry, his intent clear in his face.

"Wipe the tears away," said Harry quietly. "I don't like it when you cry."

Blaise complied and wiped his cheeks dry with a shaky hand. Harry sank back against the wall and just waited. Blaise looked him into the eyes, seemingly unsure and a little bit frightened himself. But then determination overtook his senses and he just leaned in and kissed Harry softly on the lips. It didn't last longer than a few seconds, but Blaise licked over Harry's lips lightly, as if to tease them open.

To be honest Harry would have let Blaise do what he wanted, despite knowing the feeling of being kissed, it was still very overwhelming to him, and he felt rather helpless. But Blaise didn't intend to take it any further. Instead he drew back, whispered another thank you and then disappeared into the Great Hall.

Harry took some deep breaths to regain his composure, but it didn't really help. As if in a dream he he returned to the Hall to try and enjoy the food and his friend's company. But after that kiss the feast wasn't more than a blur of colours and sounds and tastes.

His mind was reeling, and he was trying to understand that he had just been kissed by a boy. It had been too close to the one Cho had given him last Christmas. Blaise had cried, too, and he felt really bad that people always cried when they kissed him. And that Oh-god-I've-just-been-kissed-by-a-_boy_-problem was not the only one he had. He now wondered if he liked Blaise in _that_ way or if he was just liking him because he was worth liking. It didn't made sense. All he knew was that Blaise was his friend now, and he had said thank you to him about Draco in an unconventional manner.

Grudgingly, Harry admitted that Blaise _had_ beautiful sky blue eyes. And his lips had been soft, and the flash of tongue had been exciting.

When they were finished Hermione and Ron dragged his slightly stunned body back into Gryffindor Tower and simply took him to his bed. It was quite late, anyway. He didn't even notice that Hermione spelled his teeth clean (it was some kind of obsession, seeing that both her parents were dentists) and hexed his pyjama onto his body. Ron only watched and coughed in ominous amusement.

When both finally left him alone Harry sighed and burrowed himself into his blankets and covers and tried to shoo the image of Blaise out of his mind. He wasn't keen on thinking even _more_. And he was very tired.

Grunting, he curled up in his bed and closed his eyes. Since he hadn't noticed what or how much he had eaten he was comfortably lazy and easily fell asleep. He didn't even need to attempt to clear his mind. As soon as his consciousness slipped from him, all his jumbled thoughts were forgotten, and he found himself once again in a white, thin body. He looked at the rows of his Death Eaters, relishing the fact that something was done … Everything would be good … Their plan would work flawlessly …

No one heard Harry laughing softly in his sleep. If it hadn't been for Voldemort it could have been considered a pleasant dream …

-------

Harry was trying out all the sweet names he had ever heard, Muggle or wizard, and becoming more and more frustrated by the second when the gargoyle wouldn't open the winding staircase that led to Dumbledore's office.

Quiet footsteps made him whirl around, wand in hand. It pointed directly at Snape's heart.

"What a wonderful way to be greeted in the morning, Potter," sneered Snape. "Now put that wand down, foolish boy, before I take points."

Harry, who was, despite the questionable pleasantness of last night's dream, deeply aggravated and disturbed, put his wand away, but his glare could have melted ice.

"You're going to Dumbledore, aren't you?" he hissed.

"You're stating the obvious," retorted Snape, and his lips twitched in a sinister smirk. "And I can tell you right now that the headmaster only needs one of us. Seeing that I'm the more competent person it will be me. Go back to your dorm, Potter."

Harry ground his teeth together. "No," he said icily. "I want to know what's going on!"

Snape's glare became even more malicious. "Well, that particular trait you share with Black. Congratulations. And now step back."

Harry fumed with rage. He turned on his heel and stalked away, all the while cursing Snape in his mind with the most unpleasant profanities he could come up with. Right now he needed to talk to someone who would _listen_.

Well, the person he bumped into would not have been his first choice, but Luna was nice enough, and her quirky ways of thinking were quite funny at times.

"Good morning," she said airily.

"Morning," he replied distractedly and still fairly aggravated. He wasn't sure he wanted to talk to Luna of all people.

"You seem fairly angry," she stated. "My mom says hello, by the way."

Harry was at a loss for words for a moment, but then he smiled faintly. "Thanks."

Luna waved it off. The piercing lights of the November sun let her pale eyes shine, and her skin seemed to have a slightly unearthly glow. Harry shook his perception off as paranoia.

"My mom also told me that the Dark Lord visited you last night, again."

"How would she know that?" Harry asked, suddenly very tense.

"At New Year's eve the borders vanish for a few hours, and the roaming spirits have access to things that are hidden from everyone else." Luna's dreamy voice eventually calmed Harry and he started to get interested in the conversation. "Mom told me that Voldemort has a plan … a great plan that shall bring Hogwarts down … the last refuge of the Light."

Harry nodded. "I was in his head for the past two months, and all he and the Death Eaters did was talk. Last night he was summing up his great plan. He felt very happy and content. Confident that it would work … Scary."

"That's almost as strange as the sudden appearance of the French butter fairies in North Wales," said Luna earnestly, and Harry snorted in laughter.

It was almost time for breakfast, so Luna and Harry walked down to the Great Hall together. Harry didn't feel the need to express himself and the disturbing dream anymore – at least not now. He had written it down for further examination with the DA. He felt content with it now. He even knew the date.

Hermione and Ron joined him later, and he told them in hushed whispers that the DA meeting today had to do with his dream the night before. He refused to fill them in now, because if he did, they would hear it all later again, and he would have to tell it twice.

But before he could nod off and dream about his first summoning experiment, Hermione practically ordered him to stay awake. She wanted to do her homework for Potions, and Harry couldn't really blame her for tagging along after him. That way she could help him and not lose too much time. With the current workload they really had to learn to think practically.

His Prefect duties were also catching up on him. He had to go on patrolling shifts and lost even more time for homework and private studies. But at least he could practice his charms, hexes and the new protection spell when Peeves decided to throw ink bottles or chairs at him. He was far from surrendering to Peeves, and his fighting spirit had brought him the mean ghost's grudging respect. He could almost do the spell silently now, for which he was very grateful. The next Quidditch match was Gryffindor against Hufflepuff, and while he didn't expect an attack from the Hufflepuffs he still thought it necessary to be prepared.

The DADA meeting on that day was devoted to the _Protecto Corpus_ spell, but Harry already experimented with a new attack spell while Hermione supervised the other students.

Blaise and he hedged around each other, and Harry felt himself unable to say anything to him. It was all the better for him that he could hide his discomfort behind new work.

He forgot to tell his friends about Voldemort's nightly activities, but couldn't bring himself to feel guilty about that. It wasn't as if Dumbledore wouldn't already know what was going on.

And later, when he was lying in his bed, he pondered the current situation a bit more. As Luna had said … It was strange that Voldemort wanted him to know about his plan. And Snape had to know that, too. Maybe it was all a great set-up … And maybe the plan was too good to be countered by the Order of the Phoenix and the other light forces. He didn't know, because no one ever fucking talked to him!

He was getting angry, and he had no desire to flounder _again_ in the mind of his sick nemesis. Huffing, he turned around, calmed down and then fell asleep.

------

On Sunday Harry ran into Lucius Malfoy, again. He was slowly finding it funny that the man spent so much time at Hogwarts. In earlier years he had declared the school unworthy of his time, and that his son was only attending because of his wife's insistence. And yet, here he was again, only two days later. If Harry hadn't known better, he would have suspected that Malfoy bumped into him on purpose.

"My, Mr Potter _again_," Malfoy purred.

"You!" growled Harry. "It's really odd that you hang out here so often, Malfoy." He narrowed his eyes and watched the man suspiciously.

"I don't _hang out_ as you like to put it Mr Potter." He shook his head in slight reprimand, then smiled benignly. "I'm here to visit my son for his birthday, if you must know."

"Isn't he a bit young for sixth year, then?" asked Harry snidely.

"Oh, you're absolutely right. But imagine, my son wanted to meet the famous Harry Potter on his first day of school and be in the same year as him," replied Lucius, much in the same tone. "I managed to get him enrolled early but I doubt that there is much left of his hero-worship."

Somehow, inexplicably, that stung. A lot. Harry was that kind of person who tried to get people to like him. He knew that his awful childhood was to blame, but still. To hear that he had disappointed someone who honestly had tried to meet him ... well, it left a bad taste in his mouth, even though Draco had been one spoiled, snooty little boy.

"My best regards, then," said Harry coolly, trying to keep his composure. "And if you should see Dumbledore by chance you can give him my regards, too. Tell him I find it strange that snakes are _circling_ Hogwarts so much this year. Good day, Mr Malfoy."

He went on his way. His blood was thrumming with cold fury through his body. How _dare_ this Death Eater swagger through the castle when Harry had witnessed him only two nights ago in Voldemort's circle?

Harry _so_ hoped the blonde wizard had gotten the message.

He planned to tell the DA about Voldemort's plan the following weekend. It was eating him alive, and he felt he couldn't wait any longer. Gryffindor would play against Hufflepuff on Saturday. That meant the DA meeting had to take place on Sunday. And during the rest of their meeting time he wanted to practise the Patronus charm again. He had the foreboding that they would need it.

Fortunately, as Harry had discovered, the Room of Requirement could even provide them with all sorts of dark creatures, such as Kappas, Hinkypunks and Red Caps. And, of course, Boggarts.

Harry decided to turn their training to the defence against dark creatures. With this agenda in mind, he traipsed out of the castle and toward Hagrid's hut. He had his wand in his sleeve and Hagrid's book under the arm. The clouds were gone and it was cold. The frost covered grass crunched under the soles of his shoes. It was fortunate for him that no one else was around. He would have hated it if he had to cancel his first practice for some unimportant chitchat.

Sighing quietly, he knocked on Hagrid's door. If it hadn't been for the light that had been shining out of the tiny window Harry might have believed that Hagrid was out. Fang didn't bark as he usually did; that in itself was strange.

After a few seconds Hagrid opened the door.

"'Ullo 'Arry," he said a bit choked. "Come in."

Hesitantly Harry entered the cabin. Hagrid looked as if he had been worrying – and when he looked at Fang he understood why, or more precisely, what about. The huge, black dog lay in his doggy-bed, his eyes bleary, and the long tongue hanging out of his muzzle.

"He has the dog-flu," said Hagrid gravely, hanging a kettle with water over the fire. "He must've gott'n it from the Sandwolves in the forest … It's bad, an' I can only hope that he'll make it."

"Did you ask Madam Sprout for advice?" Harry asked carefully. "Or maybe Madam Pomfrey?"

"Yeah, an' they gave me all those 'lil potions and draughts … My poor Fang."

"He'll be okay," Harry said with all the conviction he could summon. "Er, actually I wanted to ask you if you have time for me … But you're occupied."

"Nonsense," said Hagrid firmly. "I know what yer want ter do." He ruffled Harry's hair carefully, so he didn't throw the boy down, again. "B'sides, Fang is sleeping almost all the time … Let's go outside a bit."

"Thank you," said Harry gratefully. He watched as Hagrid took the kettle out of the fire.

They wandered behind the hut so they wouldn't be seen by any roaming students. Harry put the book down on the frosty grass, then pulled his wand out.

"I wanted to try the Garden Gnomes first," he said. "The book said they are naturally curious. Calling them shouldn't be too difficult."

Hagrid grunted in agreement. "Sometimes it's easier ter call 'em with some sweets. If yer send magic they think yer' in danger."

Harry nodded in understanding. "I prepared for that. Dobby gave me a bit of sweet cream for them … Let's try it out …" He pulled a flask with some cream out of his pocket and poured it into a bowl. He then raised his wand just the slightest bit and waved it invitingly. "_Lamaro Garden Gnome_," he muttered softly.

"This is magic of intent," grumbled Hagrid softly. "In former times wizards an' witches in peril just sent out their magic, an' sometimes a magical animal came. That's how that book was developed."

Harry chuckled when the first, ugly Garden Gnome crept closer, sniffing the air cautiously. He and Hagrid stayed still and watched the frost bitten creature as it neared the bowl and then, greedily, started to slurp its contents. And not even three seconds later a rather large bunch of them fought for the cream, screaming and kicking and knocking each others over.

"How do I proceed from here?" whispered Harry.

"Jus' greet 'em," said Hagrid. "Say thank yer that they came when yer called."

Harry nodded and picked a Garden Gnome up that seemed to be slightly smaller than the rest of the bunch. He gave it the rest of the cream in the bottle. When it was finished and squeaked in a shrill voice to let it go, Harry said thank you politely and set it down on the grass. The small creatures eyed him for a few seconds and then scurried away.

"Tha' was the first step," said Hagrid proudly. "They're mean, but they can be good allies, yer know."

Harry thought that he indeed did know. He then picked his book up and followed Hagrid back into his cabin.

"Are there Hippogriffs living in the forest?" he asked when Hagrid had given him a huge mug, filled to the brim with hot, steamy tea.

"Yeah, but 'Arry, they're wild, very wild. Yer don't want ter have ter work with 'em."

"Not until later," he promised, grinning impishly. "But I would like to practice on your Thestrals. Is that okay?"

Hagrid knew that Harry would only pester him more if he refused, therefore he nodded his consent. These dragon-horses were tame at least, unlike some other creatures that lived in the Forbidden Forest.

Later Harry walked up to the castle, promising Hagrid he would visit him more often and practise together with him. Harry had ALWAYS wondered how on earth Hagrid could lay hands on all the dangerous beasts, but obviously he had a gift for attracting and calling them. And they trusted him enough to suffer the children.

Anyhow, he was in high spirits when he settled between Ron and Dean for lunch. He told Ron everything in hushed whispers, but the conversation quickly changed to their next Apparating lesson. Tomorrow Hooch would let them try to Apparate behind the castle where they would no longer see their red blanket destination.

"Chaos will ensue," said Dean jokingly. Together with Harry he was the best in the class, closely followed by Ron and Hermione.

"It's a pity that we can't train that for the DA, too," Hermione said to Ginny.

"And I can't start because I'm too young," sulked the red haired girl. "It can't be that hard when even Charlie managed to pass his test. And Charlie is a klutz."

"I would really like to teach the DA," said Harry roguishly, "But I can't desplinch if something goes wrong. All I can tell is that it is the will and intent that counts."

"As are so many other things in the wizarding world," Ron threw in wisely.

Everybody laughed.

Suddenly Harry remembered that Malfoy senior was skulking through the castle and that it was Draco Malfoy's birthday. He didn't know why he found it important all of a sudden, but it seemed important enough to mention.

"You know, Lucius Malfoy was here _again_," he said to his eating and laughing friends.

Dean snorted. "For a guy who says he hates Hogwarts he's in here awfully often. What a hypocrite."

"What for?" Seamus asked with mild interest.

"Malfoy junior turns sixteen today," supplied Harry eagerly. "And after everybody told me how important that age is I wondered what powers the git would get."

"More gitness," said Ron, chuckling.

"Sliminess," added Parvati.

"Maybe he'll sprout bat wings and fangs," Neville threw in. "Then he can live together with Snape in his slimy dungeon …"

Lee Jordan leaned over and prodded Neville. "Hey, was that your first jibe, Neville? Congratulations!"

Neville blushed hotly, and the whole table erupted into laughter again.

The afternoon was once more devoted to the never ceasing homework. Flitwick had assigned them a two foot long essay about conjuring spells as well as a practical test in at least two of those charms. Of course the DA was ahead of the others, but it was still enough to keep Harry occupied.

McGonagall wanted a demonstration on turning sand into sugar, which Harry found surprisingly easy because both were inanimate objects; and Blackadder even demanded a three foot long essay about the uses of garlic, parsley and honey mixed in a tea. It was so utterly pointless, but Harry needed to pass that blasted class, and since he had flunked the last test he had to pass this one in order to keep a modicum of points.

Hermione kept it that way, too, and it would probably be the first time ever that she had an Average or less on her report. She didn't care, though. She only had her NEWTs in mind.

"Ron, what are the main uses of that stuff again?" Harry asked tiredly.

Ron, who lay on the sofa in front of the fire and read the chapter while Harry wrote the essay, said: "It shall clean your body from bad Magic, free your magic channels and heighten your immune system."

Hermione snorted loudly without looking up from her Potions essay. "It's hardly a surprise," she said scathingly. "Garlic is known to have that effect; even Muggles who know nothing about the magical remedies discovered that long ago. Honey is good, too, and I suppose if you don't vomit from that disgusting stuff then you indeed have a strong immune system and an even stronger stomach."

Ron stared at her in bliss. "Oh ''Mione, I love your _f__orthrightness_."

Harry scribbled Hermione's comment about garlic down. "This is so boring and pointless. I want to go to bed and cry a little."

Ron laughed, and even Hermione's mouth twitched a bit in a smile.

"Shall we simply give out copies of your real DADA lessons to read in class?" Harry asked. "I mean, I'm doing that all the time, and it wouldn't be such a waste of time, then."

Hermione nodded absently, scribbling her last word on the parchment for Potions. She put it away, slammed the books shut and immediately started on her Arithmancy homework.

"I don't know how she's doing it," Ron said in amazement. "She never needs a break …"

Harry just shook his head and continued to write the facts down. The book told them everything they needed to find out for the essay, they didn't even have to go to the library. Harry and Ron weren't fans of research, but this was too much. Even their laziness knew boundaries.

"I think I'll go to Dumbledore this week," grumbled Harry. He pushed his glasses up his nose and growled. "I just can't stand this nonsense. I want Remus back."

Hermione just sighed. "Don't you think Snape has nagged Dumbledore because of that already?"

"Yes, but it is Snape," said Ron. "He has complained about every teacher so far. No surprise here, is it?"

"But this is _different_," argued Hermione. "Lockhart was a fraud, but Blackadder simply has no _idea_ what she's doing wrong!"

"I don't see how this affects the outcome," said Ron stubbornly. "Both are useless."

Harry hid his grin. Ron was right, of course. But Hermione had a point, too.

"Okay, I won't go to Dumbledore," said Harry finally. "Saves me the trouble." With a frustrated sigh he bent back over his parchment and tried to make up some last sentences to fill the two feet. He already cringed at the thought of having to learn all that stupid stuff for the finals.

--------

On Monday the DA members from Gryffindor were pleasantly surprised. The usual owls swooped into the Great Hall, bringing cold air and snow with them. Pig fluttered in, hooting like mad and twirling above Ginny's head. Ron caught him and untied the letter on his tiny leg. He quickly read it, and then he laughed.

"Hey guys! Fred and George say that they want to meet us on the next Hogsmeade weekend." He scanned the short letter. "They want to conspire with us in person and see the DA again."

"Wonderful," said Harry happily. "The next free weekend is in three weeks. I'll work out a meeting point and tell you all at the next meeting, okay?"

Murmurs of agreement ran along the table, but the next surprise came swiftly. Errol flew through the Hall. A large packet was bound to his legs, and he looked ruffled and thin; too old to carry mail much longer.

Ron caught the poor bird before it crashed down into their plates and freed it from its burden. Hermione gave Errol her teacup and he gratefully gulped the lukewarm liquid down.

"Your present is finally here!" hissed Ron. "Brilliant." He put it away and continued to eat his breakfast.

Harry was beyond curious, but he knew that Ron wanted to give it to him when they were alone. He and Hermione ate considerably faster and soon they set off for the Gryffindor common room.

"I waited for _ages_," said Ron excitedly. "But they had to make absolutely sure that it isn't dangerous before I could give it to you."

He eagerly ripped the brown paper off and revealed a sealed box. Ron took his wand, tapped against it, and a faint glow indicated that the wards had accepted the receiver of the package. He then gave the box to Harry.

"Happy birthday again. I'm sorry that it took this long," he said sheepishly.

"Oh no, Ron, it's okay!" Harry hastened to say. In truth he had forgotten about Ron's other announced present.

The gloves from Krum had been _the_ talk for days in the boys' dorm. Harry didn't even dare to use them. Instead they hung from one _of his_ bed post in all their glory, and he admired them every morning.

Intrigued, Hermione scooted closer, and Harry opened the lid of the box. Inside was …

"A Pensieve?" Hermione asked. "Ron, these are _awfully_ expensive and quite rare–"

"No, it's not a Pensieve," said Harry slowly. "I mean, it looks similar, but …" He stared at Ron, awaiting an explanation.

"It's a Dream Catcher," said Ron proudly. "Bill found it in a market in Egypt, and we all thought you could use it."

Hermione bit her lower lip. "And Bill and your parents made sure it is safe?"

"Exactly. We even had Dumbledore have a look at it." Ron grinned broadly. "Now, what can thisthing do? Well, it catches your dreams. While you sleep you dream, and once the Dream Catcher has absorbed your magical signature it will catch your dreams, and you can go and see them as often as you like."

"So it _does_ work like a Pensieve," Hermione muttered. "Interesting." She turned to Harry, her eyes bright with excitement. "This is _the_ opportunity to catch everything Voldemort is doing, and we can see what he's planning!"

"That was the idea," said Ron.

Harry awoke from his stupor. "Man, Ron … that's great! Thank you so much! Now I can show Dumbledore what I'm seeing when I sleep." He hugged his friend.

"And the DA," said Hermione in a demanding tone. "Or at least Ron and me."

"Of course," said Harry distractedly. "Wow, that's so cool …"

He and Ron beamed at each other, and then it was time to go to a double period of Charms with the ever cheerful Professor Flitwick.

The hours passed by slowly, and only in Care of Magical Creatures they woke up from their daze. Hagrid would work with Hippogriffs today, despite Malfoy's protests. Hagrid merely told him to stay out of the way if he was too much of a coward.

Harry felt strange, now that he got to practice with them again. It was not the same without Buckbeak whom he had trusted not to slice his neck open when he bowed. But when Hagrid called for a volunteer he stepped forward immediately. This time his Hippogriff was deep black with glowing, crimson red eyes.

"Okay 'Arry. Yer know what ter do …," said Hagrid slowly.

Harry stepped up to the Hippogriff and tried not to blink. Then he bowed, shortly but respectfully, and the creature immediately sank to its knees. Harry smiled at it and stepped forward to gently pet its beak and the soft feathers of his head.

"Are you up for a ride?" he asked softly.

The Hippogriff stayed down on its knees, so Harry climbed on its back.

The whole class watched with apprehension as the black creature rose, spread the large wings and took off after a short, galloping run.

This time Harry was more confident. He gripped the feathers tighter and somehow stuck his feet under the joints of the wings. It paid off to ride such beasts regularly; Harry almost preferred the wide, muscular backs of Hippogriffs to the thin and bony ones of Thestrals.

His Hippogriff rounded the pitch once and then landed in front of the class. When he was on the ground again Harry let out a huge breath. His knees shook, but otherwise he was very happy.

"Well done, Harry. Zephir seems ter like yer," boomed Hagrid. "Ten points ter Gryffindor. Who wants next?"

Malfoy wore a pained expression but he kept his mouth shut. The class divided into groups of three or four and shared a Hippogriff. At the end of the period everyone had managed to get their Hippogriff to bow.

Harry felt a flicker of pity as he watched the way Malfoy kept his distance, but only a little. After all it was his fault. Had he not been so insulting to Buckbeak he would not now find himself in this predicament. Now though he seemed to have a bigger problem; with Pansy clinging to his arm and talking non stop, it looked as if Malfoy might rather take his chances with the Hippogriff.

Then there was the Apparating lesson. Hooch hid herself somewhere behind the castle where the students couldn't see her. Their task was now to reach the unknown destination by will. First they were to concentrate on the red blanket, but then on her person.

It was more difficult than Harry would have thought. The eye contact with his destination point had been the catalyst before and now he had to orient himself otherwise. He tried it nonetheless; he concentrated on the well-known red piece of fabric and landed flawlessly on it. It now felt as if he was stepping through a barrier. It was nothing like using a Portkey, but more like passing through the hidden passage at the King's Cross station. He just had to think of where he wanted to go, and within a moment he was there. It came to him as naturally as flying.

Hooch had told him to think now of the place where he had landed, not of the red blanket. She was at the east tower, waiting for the students. He took a mouthful of icy air and willed himself to the spot.

"Oi!" Hooch caught him when he bumped into her. "You must have a very vivid imagination, Potter. Very good. Another five points to Gryffindor."

After him went Ron, and then Hermione. The witch was very glad to have overcome her initial fear of splinching. It became her favourite way of travelling, and when they sat in the Common Room, doing their assignments, she often said wistfully that she wanted to Apparate into the library and grab some books.

When Madam Hooch wasn't looking, Harry and Hermione practised Apparating while walking. They used an old sock of Harry as a focal point. Ron and Dean soon joined the fun. Harry always emphasised how important it could be to be able to Apparate from every situation possible. When he was walking it felt natural to just will himself away and step out at the other side of the lawn until he was as at ease as when he was Apparating from a standing position. He wondered if it was possible to Apparate away at high speed, while flying, for example. But most of the time they merely tried to Apparate to different points on the lawn without looking at them first.

He made a mental note to ask, though.

Advanced Potions on Wednesday was awkward. Harry and Blaise still tip toed around each other carefully, not really daring to look each other in the eyes. But Harry had made up his mind. He didn't like Blaise that way but cared for him as a friend and wanted to make this awful shyness between them vanish.

In the short break between periods he grabbed the boy and dragged him into a faraway corner.

"I need to talk to you," he said urgently. The Slytherin looked uneasy, and Harry decided to be bold. "It's about that kiss."

Blaise froze, and his blue eyes looked pleadingly at Harry.

"I think … I thought too much about it all," said Harry. "I mean, yeah, I like you, but not … that way. Let's be friends again?" he asked timidly. The huge breath of relief from Blaise relieved Harry as well.

"Damn, Harry," he whispered. "You almost had me there … Yes, let's be friends again." He looked apologetic at Harry. "I'm sorry I kissed you. But it was nice, really."

"Mmh. It's just disturbing that everybody is crying when they kiss me …"

"I'm sorry," said Blaise again. Then he smiled wickedly. "I have my eyes on someone, actually."

"One of the lions' pack?"

"Yes. What a scandal!" Blaise chuckled. "I'm so glad you're just … a friend."

"Almost a pity," said Harry teasingly. "I like your eyes."

"Molesting a student, Potter?" Snape's silky voice asked from behind. It held no edge of anger. It was almost … amused. "And a _Slytherin_, too?"

"No, Sir," said Blaise pleasantly. "We're just bonding. Uniting and all that."

Snape's left eyebrow rose, and Harry could see the suspicion and amusement glint in those black eyes. "Well then, Mr Zabini. It is certainly your decision whom to befriend. And seeing that you have to put up with Mr Potter, it might prove sufficient to form a … truce." He swept away, and Blaise shook with suppressed mirth.

"He can make anything sound dirty, even the instructions for preparing tea." Blaise giggled even more.

Malfoy, passing by, stared at Blaise as if he was mad. But since the blonde was the only not-member of the DA in this class Harry couldn't care less.

And then the lesson started and his concentration was needed elsewhere.

Later, in Divination, they started to revise crystal ball gazing, and the whole class was groaning. For Harry and Ron it meant going back to making up stories and hopefully sliding through the year unharmed by using subterfuge.

Unfortunately Professor Trelawney paired them up for the first period, and Harry ended up with Malfoy.

_The old bat must be particularly bored today_, thought Harry morosely while Malfoy eyed him with utmost contempt.

Sighing, Harry sat down and placed his book next to the crystal ball.

"Now, class. I want you to remember everything that you've learned about seeing the future in the crystal ball," Trelawney said softly.

"That would be nothing then," Harry muttered. Malfoy looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"Try to see the future of your partner and make some notes. I'll collect them at the end."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You first, Malfoy," he said.

The blonde stared at him, but then he shrugged simply and leaned forward. The noise around them became louder as everybody started to talk with their partners.

Malfoy sniffed the air slightly. "Nice perfume, Potter," he sneered. "Did Granger give you something good for your birthday?" His silver eyes glinted maliciously, but Harry was confused.

"What do you mean, Malfoy? I don't use perfume. Jeez, am I a girl or something?"

The blonde stared at him for a moment, but his confused expression was quickly replaced with his usual scowl. "Whatever, Potter. Let's get this over with."

"Fine by me," replied Harry coolly.

Draco started to look into the crystal ball, but he didn't seem happy. "If that thing here is doing something right, then you'll have a very happy love life sometime in your future." He looked up again, disgruntled and dissatisfied. "But surely this stupid ball doesn't mean that Chang girl."

"I don't know why you care," said Harry coldly. "It's none of your business."

Malfoy just smirked. He stared back down into the crystal ball, then at the open book. "It also says that you'll meet this special someone soon, maybe in the next year or so."

"I have no time for love," said Harry curtly. "Now let me do this before you hurt yourself by talking so much about it."

Malfoy seemed relieved, actually, and pushed the crystal ball over to him.

"Okay, let's have a look at _your_ future …" Harry squinted and rubbed his eyes. The smoke swirled around a bit, and his eyes were fixed on the movements. Slowly shadows built up and moved purposefully. "I can see that you won't marry a girl."

"What do you mean, Potter?" snapped Malfoy. "_Of course_ I'll marry a girl!"

"No, you won't," said Harry stubbornly. "And now shut up." He concentrated again. "You will undergo a fight with something or someone, and you'll have a crisis next year."

Draco blanched. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Harry let him be and scribbled down what he had seen. It was not too unlikely, and considering the change in their magic it wasn't a lie either.

Of course, Professor Trelawney had to look into the crystal ball for him, too. She babbled some nonsense about danger and dark shadows. Harry considered it the usual package and dismissed it. Since it was a double period they had to change partners in the second period again, and Harry ended up with Pansy.

Harry was delighted to bring her some news.

"Your love interest won't love you back. The next year will be a disappointment for you in every aspect. And something will ensnare your senses badly, but you won't be able to reach it."

"Such rubbish, Potter!" she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. "When did you become good at Divination, anyway? I don't believe you!"

Ron and Seamus whinnied in a corner about a comment Ron had made, but Lavender and Parvati gave Pansy a dirty look. Sure enough Professor Trelawney glided over a second time, all her necklaces, trinkets and rings tinkering and twinkling in the weak light. She demanded to hear what Harry had seen for Pansy, and then took a look for herself. Her enlarged, wet eyes stared unblinkingly into the crystal ball.

"Well, Miss Parkinson," she said airily, "it seems Mr Potter said something important … The next year will be devastatingly disappointing for you …" She said something more, but Pansy didn't listen. She glared at Harry with hateful eyes, and Harry glared right back.

At least, Harry mused, they didn't get homework this time.

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DADA got more and more frustrating. If it hadn't been for the copies of real DADA stuff Harry probably would have hexed Morgan Blackadder immediately into next week, or, in her case, into the next moon cycle. Luna's frustration about the woman got stronger and stronger, and she seemed to reach new levels of clarity when she ranted about her. It was almost scary how, well, _normal_ she sounded on those occasions.

The homework for Blackadder, however, became downright troublesome. They simply had no time to spare with the extra DA training and all the other classes which they had to take seriously. Harry was tired and grouchy enough without the irksome rubbish Professor Blackadder tried to teach them. He had barely time for sleep; he and his friends had started to do their DADA homework during lunch and dinner to save time for the serious homework, and they didn't practise as often for Quidditch as they would have liked. As much as they hated it, their days were full with school, school and school.

In fact, Harry could have done with a Time Turner, but he was tired enough as it was. The only thing that kept him interested was the DA. He had vowed to tell his friends about the dream, and he had yet to revise the Patronus charm.

On Saturday was the match against Hufflepuff. Ron was nervous because Ginny and Colin would play Chasers together with Katie Bell, and Dean and Seamus simply had to do their best as the new Beaters. They slipped in a last training on Friday, but that was more to calm Harry, Dean, Seamus and Ron's nerves than to aid the younger ones; they had had enough time to practise on and off as they liked.

Saturday found Harry nervous and sweating. He had had another Occlumency lesson the evening before, and he had fought long and hard with Snape. He still didn't manage to throw the man out of his mind without his magic, which resulted in the regular destruction of Snape's office.

Last night had been particularly draining, and Harry couldn't afford to practise his Eastern meditation through the day because he would fall asleep on the spot – simply impossible when one had that much work to do. And when he went to bed he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

-----------

And now, when the Quidditch match between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff was about to start, he was tired, grumpy and felt positively vicious. His team mates hoped he would catch the Snitch quickly before someone died in the process.

They marched onto the pitch, brooms in hand, and the spectators howled and cheered. Harry noticed that the ranks of the faculty were completely seated – a security measure. Some Ravenclaws and Slytherins were also there, but the majority of them had remained in the castle, most likely for some studying.

Hooch yelled "Mount your brooms! Kick off!" and let the Bludgers and the Snitch loose. Then she threw the Quaffle in the air and let them play.

Harry quickly rose above the field. It was cold and a bit wet, and he was already freezing. The Hufflepuff Seeker, a third year girl named Nathalie Hofer circled the field a few feet below him.

Gryffindor had a disadvantage because the team wasn't a team, yet. But Dean and Seamus handled their bats well and hit the Bludgers over the field and towards the Hufflepuff Chasers. Ginny and Colin proved to be a good unit; they outflew their opponents and made the first goal.

"Gryffindor scores!" yelled Lee Jordan. "The new Chasers Weasley and Creevey just proved that they are worthy successors to Alicia Spinnet and Angelina Johnson."

But the Hufflepuff Chasers scored two times after that, and Harry's mood was rapidly getting worse. He just wanted to get the game over with. Nathalie Hofer followed him now as he flew through the battle field and then searched on the ground. He was annoyed at her tactic, didn't she have her own ideas?

When he swooshed along the Gryffindor stands he could hear Neville and Hermione cheering for him, and in the Slytherin stands he spied Blaise who gave him the thumbs-up.

Finally Harry was tired of seeing his team slowly lose and started to intervene in the game. He blocked the path of the Hufflepuff Chasers, tricked Nathalie with the Wronski feint and other dangerous moves that left the spectators moaning in fear, and then he spotted his goal.

While he was at it his team mates scored three more times, and Seamus and Dean managed to throw a Hufflepuff Beater off his broom. Ron blocked the Quaffle with a vicious kick and sent it straight back into Dean's waiting arm.

The Snitch hovered near the teachers' stand, and Harry immediately took off after it.

_Of course_, he thought, _even more annoyed, Hofer follows me and lets me do the work. Bitch._

He usually didn't think very badly of other people, but he was really tired and really angry at Snape, thus he projected his disturbing emotions at everyone else who dared to stand in his way.

The bonus of that game was that the Snitch hovered directly in front of Snape and Blackadder. Harry felt that the world was whole again.

He shot with high speed directly towards them, Hofer's Silver Rocket 140 was no match for his Firebolt … The cool air rushed in his ears, and the golden Snitch was so clear, so very clear in front of him … He flattened against the broomstick, noticed the tight face of Snape and the wide eyes of Blackadder …

With a spectacular braking move he whirled around the Snitch, grabbing it as he went. He dishevelled the hair of his two least liked teachers, and it felt _good_. McGonagall was grinning, _grinning_, and then the cheers … With a triumphant war cry he thrust his fist that held the Snitch in the air and flew a victory lap around the pitch.

He barely heard Lee's commenting, the announcement that Gryffindor had won the game. Blaise smiled broadly at him, Neville and Hermione, Angelina and Alicia were jumping up and down, and then he touched the ground and his team mates were smothering him with hugs and kisses.

Later in the common room his friends told him that they had never seen him fly so recklessly.

"I was in a bad mood, and then that Hofer girl followed me around–"

"But Harry, your _moves_!" interjected Seamus excitedly. "You should have seen yourself! I bet you would outdo Viktor Krum these days!"

Harry sipped on his Butterbeer and shrugged. "The only move I'm proud of is the one where I scared the shit out of Snape and Blackadder."

"I placed a camera on the stand," said Dennis proudly. "I altered it a bit so we should be able to watch the game, if you want."

"Really?" Harry asked with reawakened interest.

The boy nodded enthusiastically. "Give me five minutes, Harry." He ran with Colin into the dorm of the fifth years and came back a few minutes later. In his hands he held some kind of picture frame. "It works like a wizarding photo," explained Dennis proudly. "But we found out how to make movies out of them."

"Scary what they are capable of when it has to do with their obsession," Hermione whispered to Ron.

Colin tapped his wand against the glass of the frame and then handed it to Harry.

His friends crowded around the armchair he was sitting in. With slack jaw Harry watched himself chase around the field like the devil himself, dodging Bludgers, blocking Chasers, kicking the Quaffle occasionally, and generally leading Hofer from one trap into the next. He hadn't realised how dangerous it looked from the outside. But then again, he enjoyed that adventurous feeling, too.

"I honestly thought you would break your nose in this one," said Angelina when the screen showed his Wronski feint against a goal post. One couldn't hear it, but Hofer had screamed in terror as she narrowly missed the post and soared out of the field like a bullet.

"Hermione, you should send a copy to Vicky, maybe they'll be taking Harry into the team right away," teased Ron.

"And what would Viktor do then?" she teased back. "He's earning his living with that, after all."

"That's just too bad," said Seamus. "But Colin, would you be able to make a copy? I mean, you could earn yourself a ton of money by filming the games and preserving them."

Colin and Dennis grew pensive for a moment. Then they nodded slowly. "It would be an idea."

"Yeah, I want a copy of our game against Slytherin," said Dean quickly.

"Me, too," said Lavender. "My parents always wanted to see the most famous sport in the wizarding world."

Parvati nodded as well. "Me, too."

Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly conjured parchment and a quill to list the orders for the brothers.

Harry was glad that the attention was diverted away from him and leaned back in his armchair. He was tired and wanted to sleep. And it was only half past twelve in the afternoon! Well, considering the fact that neither he, Ron, Neville, Dean or Seamus had slept really well in the past week it was hardly a surprise. And with all the sweets in his stomach he could skip lunch for once.

"Guys," said Harry, "I think I'm going to bed. I need a nap."

Hermione nodded. "Okay, Harry. But set your clock for three, we need to get that DADA homework done before we can finish Snape's essay." She pursed her lips huffily.

Harry groaned, but nodded anyway. He popped a last ice mouse into his mouth, and then trudged up the stairs to the boys' dorm, took off his Quidditch robes, the clothes beneath, barely made it into his pyjama bottoms and finally simply fell into bed and was asleep before he could even think about setting his clock. His Dream Catcher stood on his night stand, gleaming and ready.

Of course it was far too late when he woke up. He felt relaxed and refreshed, and when Hermione told him that he obviously had needed his sleep and therefore had let him rest he was also relieved. She wasn't mad at him.

The hour before dinner was spent with homework, and dinner itself was a funny event. Colin's and Dennis' little movie had made it to all houses, and the match was the number one gossip at all tables. Those who had skipped it were glad, it seemed. The Slytherins were eyeing him with calculating glares, and students from the other three houses approached Harry and congratulated him for that wonderful match and his special moves.

"Maybe the Slytherins are fearing our match now," said Ron eagerly. "I bet Malfoy has never thought that the Seeker could actually help his team mates."

"That Chang girl is looking at you," Dean pointed out. He was feeding Ginny with chips and smiled lovingly at her.

Harry remembered that Cho had wanted to talk to him that day at King's Cross station. But he couldn't make himself feel guilty for avoiding herevery time when there had been time to talk after the DA meeting.

Hermione sighed audibly. "Sometimes I believe that you're just not made for girls, Harry," she said in a matter of fact voice. "Honestly, you don't _understand_ them–"

"And then there was that thing with crying while kissing," Harry pointed out angrily. "It's not my fault that she was so twisted and thinking of Cedric while we were going out. She _still_ is twisted, if you ask me."

Ron nodded. "It's an insult. Really 'Mione, guys don't feel all that good when they're compared to other guys." He sneered. "Especially when they're standing nearby and the guy in question is dead."

Hermione sighed in defeat. "I guess you're right." She looked at Harry strangely but then her food called to her and the topic was dropped.

Harry pushed his food around his plate. He was angry that Hermione had brought it up. She was right, he didn't understand girls, and Cho had proven to be particularly difficult. If all the girls were like that then he would rather be alone than in a relationship. He felt no desire to be pushed around and be unhappy. And besides, Madam Puddifoot's café had been simply horrible. Never did he want to set foot into that establishment again. Ever.

Sighing, Harry gave up on trying to eat more than two slices of toast. He settled for juice and hoped that he could satisfy his stomach later – be it with the help of the House Elves or the last of his chocolate.

After dinner the sixth year students sat around the fire in the common room and did their homework. Harry was immersed in Snape's essay when Hermione slammed her books shut.

"Where are you going?" Seamus asked a bit drowsily.

"I need to talk to Snape," said Hermione curtly. "It's about that essay. I suddenly remembered that I had a question about the slug juice." The others groaned. "Well!" snapped Hermione, "I want to know! And this stupid book doesn't tell me what I want to know."

"Count your limbs when you're coming back," said Ron.

Hermione just rolled her eyes and stalked out. Her friends shook their heads and concentrated once more.

Neville whispered: "She's really brave. I would never ask Snape of all people. I'd rather browse all the books in the library than go voluntarily into the dungeons."

"Well, she's in Gryffindor, isn't she?" commented Harry absently, scribbling down something about the use of boiled salamander skin. "You know, Gryffindor bravery and all."

The other boys shook their heads fondly, and then it was quiet again.

Harry finished his essay at half past eight. He breathed a sigh of relief, and then stood up and prepared for his patrol. Tomorrow was a DA meeting, but he would have enough time to finish the rest of his homework for the week before it started.

He left the common room, wand tucked into his sleeve, and went on his way. He wandered down the hallways, fully intending to go down to the dungeons and get Hermione. She had been down there really long. Had she argued with Snape about his precious ingredients? He wouldn't put it past her.

But he didn't need to go all the way, he met her halfway on his way down.

"There you are," said Harry. "We wondered if he had chopped you up or something like that."

She had the decency to look flustered. "Well," she said, "We lost track of time, because I said slug juice is a poor replacement for dragon spit, and he just _had_ to tell me that slug juice has some qualities the dragon spit doesn't, and that it is easier to get, anyway. Not so illegal in some cases. Well, you can imagine our discussion."

"You're too brave for your own good. The others were this far from taking bets," joked Harry. "Well then, come on. We're on patrol shift tonight."

Hermione groaned. "I totally forgot. Sorry Harry."

"You should be, it's our shared shift with the Slytherins."

Hermione groaned again before she put her wand in her sleeve, straightened her robes and squared her shoulders. "Let's see how big mouthed they are tonight. I hope Parkinson is doing something stupid. She nicked two hundred points from us last week!"

"You could look through my Potions essay," said Harry hopefully. "I'm sure I did some good work, but still... "

"All right," agreed Hermione.

They patrolled the hallways and looked into empty classrooms. It was too early for the snogging couples, but they had to do a circuit of the castle until eleven, when Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson would take over. Hermione was beingplayful tonight; she threw some pillows at Harry in the deserted Charms classroom, and Harry blocked them all with his _Protecto Corpus_ spell.

He had become so proficient at this that now he merely had to hiss a word to achieve results. And Hermione was really impressed which was a rare feat for her.

They went up to the seventh floor corridor, but the Room of Requirement was empty, as were the adjoining old classrooms.

When it was time to meet Malfoy and Pansy in the Great Hall, Harry and Hermione were deeply immersed in a conversation about Apparating. They had discussed the last lesson, guessed what they would do in the next and how they would possibly do on their test. Harry also mentioned that he would call Sirius tonight, and it was lucky that they always called him Snuffles in Hogwarts, because Malfoy and Pansy overheard the last statement.

"Who is Snuffles, Potter?" Pansy sneered. "Your secret girlfriend?"

Harry noticed that she had Malfoy's arm in a death grip and smirked. "That's none of your business, Parkinson. But at least I can be subtle, unlike you."

Pansy's cheeks tinged in a bright red, and Malfoy shook her hands off.

"Well, have fun on your shift, Malfoy," said Hermione loftily. "Maybe the Astronomy tower isn't occupied, yet."

She and Harry snickered, and then they turned around and went back to their common room. Harry, who had planned to talk to his godfather and Remus, invited Ron and Hermione, too. They all settled on his bed, Ron drew the curtains shut, Hermione put a silencing charm around the bed, and Harry called.

Sirius and Remus were overjoyed to talk to Harry again. He, Hermione and Ron all squeezed themselves together in front of the mirror and grinned in greeting. The three immediately started talking.

"And Apparating is really cool," said Harry excitedly. "Last week we Apparated for the first time without eye contact!"

"I told you it wouldn't be a problem for you," said Sirius proudly, "And Ron and Hermione, we're proud of you, too. I bet you'll need it soon. Is school interesting so far?"

Ron nodded vigorously. "Yeah, and we have _so much_ homework, and that Blackadder is such a _fraud_–"

"-and we didn't have time to do as much as peek into the book about Animagi," said Hermione regretfully. "I would really like to learn how to become one, but with the DA and all the other classes, it is impossible."

Remus smiled. "Don't worry. You'll have to choose an animal first, anyway. Usually that'll be no problem because the wizard or witch will choose one that represents his or her character anyway, but if you're looking for something special then it might be tricky."

"What Remy wants to say is that you might have problems with transforming, let's say, into a giant squid, because it's not your animal in any way," explained Sirius. "That's why Peter the rat became a rat. It was simply perfect. He could have never become a wolf or something equally noble."

Remus elbowed Sirius. "So, choose your animal first, and then you can start. I know that Sirius was pondering forever what he should become. It was actually Snape who enlightened him." He laughed. "He called him a mutt or something like that, and Siri took to it."

"Let's honour Snape," said Sirius wryly. "But I bet he thought of me as a Chihuahua or some other pansy dog like that."

"Your Animagus form is fantastic," said Ron brightly. "I really would like to be a dragon, but Charlie told me that transformations into magical beasts are impossible. At least for common wizards."

"You have to think practically. It has to be an animal that's common enough not to be readily associated with yourself," said Hermione determinedly. "I think a lynx would be nice for me, even though I know that it _is_ rare in England."

Remus nodded approvingly. "Suits you. And you, Harry?"

"I don't know," said Harry, squirming a bit. "I have a lot of ideas … Wolf, eagle, snake … But that is all so cliché …"

Sirius grinned. "You'll find something eventually. Don't drive yourself insane about that. Sometimes, when the wizard feels he's ready to shift shapes he's dreaming about his Real Shape. It's like a revelation."

"But only James had that revelation," said Remus. "Peter was simply too weak to transform into something big, and I guess it was really his magic that decided about his form."

"Yeah, without us he would never have done it," said Sirius scornfully. "Remy was a werewolf before, and the beast within wouldn't accept another shape. I just wanted to help him, therefore it was unimportant what I became, as long as it was big enough."

Remus smiled softly. "James was a difficult kid. He always had to annoy Snape or impress other people, but he was a natural in many things, like flying, Apparating, shifting shapes … He had a strong mind, and that's what makes the wizard, you know?" He looked at the three with fondness and even love. "You all have strong minds and wills, and it doesn't come as a surprise that you're fine wizards."

The three became flustered at the praise. Remus and Sirius watched them squirm for a while, then they grinned, looking very much like Fred and George. Then they decided to change the topic.

"We just hope that the DA is working very hard. Harry, send me your curriculum and the report about your meetings," said Remus finally. "I'm curious to see how you are teaching the others."

"The praise should go to Hermione. She made the lesson plans and taught the theoretical parts of the sixth year curriculum," said Harry immediately. "She worked the most of all."

"Not unlike a certain grouchy Potions Master," teased Sirius. "Snape always had his nose in some book, but I doubt that he'd have shared his knowledge with anyone. Moony, did he get ten or eleven OWLs?"

"Only nine, you dolt, but that was because he had only nine subjects. And seven of them were an O," said Remus playfully.

"Scary …," whispered Ron.

"Exactly," agreed Sirius. "But anyway, you'll make your right decision in time, and if you're ready, tell us everything about it."

The three agreed, and then Sirius and Remus bid them good night and the mirror became dark.

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**End of chapter 2**


	3. Chapter 3

_Disclaimer and warnings_: Please go and see part one for the warnings and my disclaimer.

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**Thank you** for your reviews and encouraging comments! It's good to hear that you liked the story so far. I'm sorry for the slow updates but at least the chapters are long ;-)

My thanks also go to my wonderful beta Licelli who really had her work cut out for her to make this chapter presentable. As always I'm very grateful for your advice concerning both grammar and content. As a non-native English speaker I couldn't have asked for a better one to explain the intricacies of the language to me. :-)

Please have fun reading, and I'd love to read what you think about it.

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**Chapter 3**

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As predicted Harry had all his homework for next week finished when lunch time arrived. Hermione had checked his work. She even read through his DADA essay about Circles of Joy but didn't comment. As long as Harry made it through the exam she was content.

After lunch the DA met in the Room of the Requirement. The boys' and girls' talking was strangely subdued and somewhat apprehensive, although no one knew exactly why. It was okay with Harry, though. He planned to tell them about Voldemort's plan, and he would hate it to destroy any happy mood with it.

By now they had Padma integrated into the group. The first few times had been awkward to say the least. She had been thunderstruck with the organised structure of the DA and how far they went, but after her initial shock she became another enthusiastic member.

"Hello," said Harry when everybody was seated. "Today's meeting is really important. I have to tell you about my latest dream concerning Voldemort, and I have a request. But first things first." He looked at Hermione, and she nodded. "The dream I want to talk about – I had it last week. On Halloween night, actually." Harry took a deep breath, and some DA members shifted restlessly on their cushions. "In this dream Voldemort told his minions what he had planned for us. For Hogwarts."

There was an uncomfortable silence in the room. Then Blaise cleared his throat.

"You can tell us, Harry. That's what we're here for," he said softly.

Others nodded quietly.

"Well then," sighed Harry. He felt drained and exhausted all of a sudden. "Voldemort told his Death Eaters how he plans to take Hogwarts down. He has some really powerful wizards and witches in his ranks, people who can work with the energy and power of Earth."

Luna gasped audibly.

Harry's bright green eyes looked in the eyes of each member. "He wants to draw up a power circle and crumble the wards of Hogwarts."

The silence was deafening. Seconds passed and no one dared to move. When Harry noticed that no one would say anything anytime soon he continued.

"Luna will know what that means." He opened a folded piece of parchment and started to read. "I will use the powers of Arawn, the God of the Death Kingdom, the God of war and terror and revenge." He took a deep breath and read further. "I will take my revenge on those who dare to defy me openly. I will take down those who dare to fight me and deny me the leadership I seek. I will do it at the Summer Solstice, as it is the day with the highest, freely available flow of power in the year, and I only can do it next year … I'm not ready yet." He looked at Luna and felt a pang of regret and compassion in his chest.

"He can't," muttered Luna. "Arawn is a bad God. Why would a Wiccan call upon him? Why would they _help_ him?" Her pale eyes glittered in confusion and pain.

"Voldemort even named the ritual," said Harry grimly. "He called it _Arawn's Kingdom_."

Luna choked and Ginny rushed to support her. The other members watched the exchange with increasing worry.

"What is that supposed to mean?" demanded Zacharias Smith.

"It means," said Hermione coldly, "that Voldemort wants to sell Hogwarts to the world of death and destruction. _Arawn's Kingdom_ is a ritual where a patch of offered land will be sucked into the vortex of death. Hogwarts would fall the moment the vortex is opened." Her eyes, glittering with hopelessness and impotent fury caused Smith to refrain from saying any more. "No one would survive."

Anthony Goldstein gripped Padma's shoulder tightly. Harry could see their minds racing, could see the feeling of uselessness and helplessness on Seamus' and Dean's faces. Neville just shook in suppressed fear, and Blaise chewed hard on his lower lip.

"Before you all go mad with worry," he said with a much stronger voice than he really felt, "I want you to remember that I felt a strange pull in my dreams. Voldemort pulled me in; he wanted me to see what he's planned."

Hermione quickly caught his drift. "It could mean Voldemort wants to set a trap. We have three possibilities." A huge blackboard appeared behind her, and an invisible hand started to write with chalk on it. "The first one is that Voldemort has a plan we can't counter. He wants us to know so we will go mad with fear."

"The second could be that he wants to deceive us. Maybe he has something else up his sleeve and wants us to believe we know what he's up to," said Harry steadily. The chalk behind him raced over the blackboard.

Ron stood up and joined Harry. "The third possibility is that he wants us to believe he has set a trap. We would search ourselves silly for the real plan and he would strike with what we already know."

"Have you told Dumbledore?" Angelina asked sorrowfully.

"No. I wanted to, but Snape sent me away," said Harry bitterly. "But that's all the more reason for me to believe that this is a trap. Voldemort knows that something with Snape is off. He knows that Snape will report to Dumbledore." He frowned and suddenly remembered the feelings of sickening glee in his first dream, right after his first Occlumency lesson. "He also ordered Snape to pry my mind open, so he can invade my dreams."

"I _knew_ it!" yelled Ron in rage.

Harry didn't care to elaborate his business with Snape or Snape's business with Voldemort to the others. "It was all part of his plan … he managed to make me believe what I dreamed once, and he wants to try it again." He looked at Hermione who took notes, then at his DA. "I have a request for you all: search for ways to counteract this ritual. Luna is our only source here, and we need to support her. Please search for books concerning this kind of magic."

The students nodded eagerly.

"And then I wanted to ask you for another little favour. Blaise talked to me some weeks ago and told me that Malfoy doesn't want to become a Death Eater. We already know that Crabbe and Goyle are receiving orders from Voldemort – we saw it at the Quidditch match." He let some seconds of silence pass; Johnny had been unconscious for two days and didn't look as if he would play Quidditch anytime soon again. "Blaise fears that, once the Slytherins get word of it, they would turn against him."

"How would you know, Zabini?" Seamus asked suspiciously.

The Slytherin flinched slightly. "I just know. I talked with him. His father is in the high ranks of Voldemort's people, and they have started scouting in Hogwarts now. He doesn't want to join, and I know the Slytherins better than you do. Some of them will kill him when they learn about it."

"And that's how we come into the picture," said Harry. "I want all of you to have an eye on Malfoy. I suppose there's not much sense in stalking him now, but we have to watch out for trouble, anyway. We should consider it as training."

The DA contemplated this.

"But we don't need to make a fool out of ourselves?" Smith asked finally.

"No. Just have a look every now and then. If things get rough you are more than capable to intervene and save his ass." Harry sighed. "Thank you. Now, for this week I want you to revise the Patronus Charm. Wands out, boys and girls, I want to see some nice, silvery protectors."

Some laughed at his Hooch-like tone of voice, all scrambled up. The threat was forgotten within seconds, but the blackboard remained, looming over their practice. Shouts of "_Expecto patronum_!" sounded through the room, and an army of silvery animals, led by a huge, silver stag, floated by in soundless gallop.

After that particularly tiring meeting Harry sat in the Gryffindor common room and ate a Chocolate Frog. Practice with Boggarts was always exhausting; no matter how often he fought against them. He was grateful that the DA was willing to protect another pupil, even if most of them disliked Malfoy greatly. Now he had some worries off his shoulders and could concentrate on new problems.

And they had plenty.

Luna was completely devastated that Voldemort would use the power of Earth against them; two thirds of the DA was worried, and the other third was clueless but wildly determined to help in any way they could.

Harry had decided to not talk to Dumbledore about it. There simply was no need, because if Harry was able to come to conclusions concerning counter strikes and protection then Dumbledore would come to them, too. But Dumbledore didn't know that it might be a trap, and the DA had decided to keep it that way until they had proof that there was another plan, a real plan. If Harry was right and Voldemort somehow suspected Snape, then Snape wasn't privy to all information.

Hermione regarded Harry intently as he brooded over some problem. Ron was just sitting on a chair and stared at his Herbology essay. Dean held Ginny and Seamus talked quietly to Neville.

After almost half an hour Hermione pulled herself visibly together. Her face was still pale, and her hands shook a bit, but she also had that determined expression around her mouth.

"Well," she said quietly so that only Ron and Harry could hear her, "I guess that was the beginning." She drew a shaky breath and then continued. "I must admit it is a bit heavier than last year, but we will do this!"

"Think about it, 'Mione," said Ron darkly. "With the exception of Luna no one has any idea how to approach the problem, and I have the sinking feeling that one witch simply is not enough."

"We will do our research and prepare the best we can," said Harry quietly. "And there's always Dumbledore."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "We should double check with Dumbledore that the plan you heard is the same that Snape reported, don't you think?"

"There's no need," said Harry even more quietly. "I saw him that night. He knows."

"We should still check," said Hermione in a voice that dared him to contradict her.

With that matter settled for her, Harry was glad to free his mind from all the clammy thoughts. His stomach clenched with fear when he thought about Voldemort; he grew in power each passing day, and if they were really going to wait until next year to face him he might be too strong to fight him …

--------

Herbology on Monday after Charms was uneventful as ever. Justin Finch-Fletchley got bitten by his Nipping Nettle, but, other than that, class passed by smoothly.

DADA was catastrophic as always. Harry only listened with one ear. He read Hermione's notes about a weaker shielding spell against the _Petrificus Totalus_ and the Tarantella Charm. His right hand itched to take the wand and try it out. Sighing he pushed the paper back under his DADA book and listened to Blackadder's blabbing about securing one's home with garlands of mistletoe and lemon grass.

"Smells good," Seamus had whispered. "But doesn't keep the Cornish pixies away."

Gryffindor lost five points for that.

In Care of Magical Creatures Hagrid surprised them with a little trip into the Forbidden Forest. They sneaked along the path in a long line. The Slytherins were carefully watching out, the Gryffindors were mostly unconcerned. They trusted Hagrid.

"We'll see the Thestrals again terday," announced Hagrid. "I had a feelin' that yer would like ter see 'em."

Harry beamed, and Hermione had to elbow him. Hagrid had spread out some dead, bloody does for the Thestrals. They waited for five minutes, and then Harry winked at Hagrid, raised his wand discreetly, and muttered the incantation that was used for calling magical beasts of that size and height. Hagrid looked at him with an unreadable expression, but the sound of rushing wings distracted him.

Not a minute later three Thestrals stood there and sniffed the offered meat. Still beaming Harry walked up to them and muttered quietly a few words before he started to pet the bony, scaly body. All those who had been in the Ministry of Magic walked up to Harry. Hermione and Ron still couldn't see the beasts, which irritated and humbled them in equal measure since being able to see one menat that you had seen death, but Luna was petting them too, now, and Neville argued with himself whether he should touch them or not.

More Thestrals landed, folding their wings over their flanks, and now the Slytherins occupied themselves with the others. Harry watched as Malfoy calmly rubbed one along the neck where the thin mane was. Silently he wondered what Malfoy must have seen to be able to see the Thestrals now; the thought alone was disturbing.

When the period was almost over and Hagrid sent the students back on their way, a rustle startled Harry. He turned around.

A pale creature peeped out from a skeletal bush. The face looked very doglike, narrow with a long muzzle. Icy blue eyes were deep-set in dark brown fur which turned beige over the head. The ears were long and pointed. The creature looked like a mix between wolf, dog and something else.

One paw was cautiously thrust forward. It was equally as dark as the muzzle, and Harry recognised the markings. It was the same as a Siamese cat. Intrigued he watched the strange animal, which seemed to spy on the Thestrals and their food.

"'Arry! Come on," called Hagrid, and Harry whirled around. He ran up to his teacher. "'Arry, yer mustn't do that again."

Harry nodded. "Sorry," he said meekly. "I just wanted to try it out …"

"I know it's excitin' an' all, but we have ter be careful. You could've attracted Sandwolves or worse, the wild Hippogriffs." Hagrid looked sternly at Harry. "I won't take points this time, but I will if yer do it again."

"Okay," said Harry. "Sorry, Hagrid. I mean it."

"I know." The half giant smiled leniently. He leaned a bit closer and whispered: "I know what yer want ter do. I still say it's too dangerous, bu' Merlin help us all when Yer-Know-Who attacks someday …"

Harry nodded absently, thinking about the strange creature he had seen. Well, head and paw of it.

"Hagrid, what are Sandwolves?" he asked suddenly.

"Why do you ask?"

"You mentioned them twice in a week. I'm curious," said Harry.

"We're going ter look at 'em soon," replied Hagrid secretively. "Yer'll have ter wait, 'Arry."

Harry was a bit disappointed but promised not to look them up in some book. Besides, he had more important things to do.

Apparating class was fun as always. Hooch let the students Apparate to random points, within eyesight and out of it, and for the first time she called those out who were good enough to take the test.

Harry irritated Ron with Apparating in front of him and behind him, constantly changing places. Near the end of the lesson the whole class had started a hide and seek game, but it was highly confusing since everybody always changed places. The _plops_ were disconcerting, and Madam Hooch had to whistle for three minutes to get them back in order.

Since Harry didn't have homework, for once, he peeked into his dream catcher and watched what he had dreamed last night. It had been some minor rubbish from Voldemort. For the duration that Voldemort had pulled him into his mind Harry hadn't had any nightmares, neither about Cedric, nor about the Ministry of Magic. Of course he was glad that he could rest at night, but on the other hand it was slightly disturbing to be trapped in Voldemort's body when he really wanted to dream about more pleasant things.

He always complained about it in the morning, and by now Harry's exaggerated rants about the Dark Lord were the laughingstock of the Gryffindor table among the DA members, giving them some much needed relief from the fear they always felt at the edge of their conscience.

On Tuesday, in History of Magic class, Harry thought blearily that it was only two more weeks until they would meet Fred and George in a friend's house. He had told the DA yesterday, but now, after he had spilled his beans concerning Voldemort he felt somehow left out. As if a new section of … whatever had started. They now knew the facts_;_ it was time to do something.

_Anything_, he thought sleepily. _What we need is a miracle …_

Binns' droning on about the Veela quarrels between the Veela communities in France and Spain bored him even more, although the thought of beautiful women was appealing. He drifted, together with Seamus, Dean and other boys who had ever seen a real Veela, off to lala-land. The girls just snorted. By now they knew better than to reprimand them.

The rest of the day passed by quickly, now that they had another task to fulfil. DA members from all houses searched in the library for possible counter actions, and Luna spent an awful lot of her time in the Room of Requirement, perusing the books. Hermione and Ginny helped her in every spare minute, but they had school work to do, and the teachers obviously had decided to heap end-of-semester tests upon the students before the Christmas time dulled their attention.

Snape's class on Wednesday was a nightmare for Harry. Snape stared at him all the time, and he seemed to be in a particularly bad mood. His pop quizzes were always directed at Harry at the beginning of the lesson, and he was unbelievably glad that he had started to cram regularly. He and Hermione would always study some random information of random potions, and until now Harry had done quite well, which meant, unfortunately, that Snape's mood became even worse.

This time, however, Snape quizzed Hermione, thus making Harry's day tolerable. Harry suspected that it was in revenge for her nightly visit and their arguing about potions. She did well, of course, but Snape was far from satisfied. He awarded one point afterwards, and that only grudgingly. Hermione just sighed and supported her head on one hand.

_Poor girl_, Harry thought compassionately. _She must be tired with all the extra stuff she's learning and practising._

He envied Ron who could sleep in every Wednesday. Sometimes life sucked.

Next to him sat Blaise with a blank expression on his face. Harry would ask him what was troubling him, but he had no desire to be skinned alive by Snape. So he promised himself to get to the bottom of this later, when they had more time to talk.

And then the time was filled with tinkering glasses and boiling potions.

DADA on Thursday, Harry decided, was excellent if he wanted to train his meditation techniques. His eyes would become glassy and his breathing very even and slow. Professor Blackadder never called him to answer a question. She seemed content to pick Hermione every single time, and Seamus was obviously her favourite target because he always talked back. Hermione and Harry simply awarded the lost points for some minor things afterwards.

Transfigurations became really tiring now. McGonagall demanded a lot from them. The DA members were good enough to pass with an Above Average grade, but they really had to struggle to keep it that way, whereas Charms had turned out to be a walk in the park for all of them. Even Dean got it right by now – Hermione's drilling concerning the right wand movements had caused an immediate improvement.

And Harry still dreaded the Occlumency lessons. As much as he wanted to banish Voldemort from his mind, he didn't want to be in the same room with Snape and let himself be tortured. He felt like a fool for going back to that blasted office every Friday night. Not to mention the ice that flowed though his veins, and the large lump in his throat that seemed to become bigger and bigger every passing hour until, by eight o'clock, he was unable to swallow.

_At least the week was over_, Harry mused as he knocked on the office door.

"Come in, Potter," bellowed Snape.

Harry sighed and stepped in. Snape really didn't make things easy.

"What are you waiting for, Potter? Wand out!" Snape pushed the Pensieve in his cupboard and then turned around. His black eyes were glittering, he apparently waited for a real challenge tonight.

Harry pulled his wand from the back pocket of his jeans (which had Snape sneering).

"_Legilimens_!"

Harry felt the wave of mind power crash against his own wards, but his defence was weak. Snape slid past it and started to rampage through his memories.

Harry gritted his teeth together and attempted to follow the intruder. It was like feeling a fire in his head, and his breathing became ragged.

"Out!" he snarled. "_Out_!"

"Make me, Potter!" panted Snape.

Harry was furious. Now that he could pinpoint what Snape was doing he couldn't _get_ him! It was making him so _angry_! With a feral growl he pushed his magic through every fibre of his body, and Snape flinched back as if burned.

"Not your magic, you stupid fool, use your _mind_!" Snape wiped sweat from his forehead. "Again! _Legilimens_!"

Harry wasn't ready, but then again he never was. Snape's presence in his mind made Harry so unbelievable angry, loathing pulsed through him, and with a satisfied smirk he saw his hated teacher wince under the emotion. He tried to concentrate it, but no matter how hard he tried to direct his mental strength against Snape, it diffused.

This was even worse than when Snape would simply roam in his memories. Now that he could tell what he was doing he felt used, helpless. And he hated it. Hated it so much that his magic was burning again in his body, and Snape crashed back out, stumbling over and falling down.

"Enough, Professor," panted Harry in an icy tone. "I won't let you do that any longer. Teach me how to do Legilimency."

The dark eyes stared at him with utmost contempt. "What, Potter. Are you attempting to breach the Dark Lord's mind?" His voice lowered to a menacing whisper. "Believe me, you'll fail." He stood up and dusted his black, plain robes off. "Get over your girlish feelings of hurt pride. _Legilim_-"

"No." Harry raised his wand and pointed it directly at Snape's heart. "You'll teach me Legilimency now. Or else I'll–"

"What or else, Potter. Hex me? Curse me?" Snape sneered. His hissing became even silkier. "I don't think so. No matter how much you try to stuff your head full, it will never be enough. Why would you succeed where so many failed? You can't defeat me, Potter."

Harry smirked. "If you think so, _sir_. Now teach me Legilimency, or I'll try it myself on you without learning it first. It wouldn't make a big difference. I had to learn Occlumency that way, too." His smirk disappeared, and his face became dark and almost as menacing as Snape's. "And I swear by my mother, I would do it. If you're allowed to know my secrets, I'm allowed to know yours, too."

Snape glared at him. For long seconds they glared at each other, maiming the other in their minds, cursing and insulting the other with every known profanity.

Then Snape's lip curled in the worst smile Harry had ever seen. "Try it, Potter," he said softly.

And Harry tried.

------

On Saturday morning Harry had to go to the infirmary to get his scraped knees healed.

"Merlin, Potter, what have you done _this_ time?" Madam Pomfrey shouted through the whole hospital wing.

"Training with Professor Snape," said Harry angrily.

He had hit the floor so often yesterday that the blood spot there had to be permanent by now. And his knees hurt like hell.

Pomfrey tutted and dotted the wounds with a healing draught. "In two hours the skin will be as good as new, Potter. And do try to stay in one piece for a change."

Harry stood up and winced at the slight pain in his legs. He pulled his baggy jeans legs down (the one from Sirius' first aid kit of clothing) and left the hospital wing. Ron and Hermione were waiting outside for him.

"Man, Snape must have been rabid last night," said Ron hotly.

But Harry's small, exhausted smile calmed them a bit down.

"I tried Legilimency on him last night," he whispered. "I can feel it now when somebody is in my head, but I can't throw them out. Snape wouldn't tell me how." He thought for a few seconds. "Maybe I should ask Snuffles if he can send me a book about that."

"And? Did it work?"

Harry's smile morphed into a grin. "Oh, yes. He was pretty shocked. But I always knew that I was more the aggressive type. Pity that he is really good at Occlumency. He threw me out every single time."

Hermione had listened intently. "Harry, do you think you can, you know, enter You-Know-Who's mind?"

Harry became serious again. "Yes," he muttered even more quietly. "I want to try when he's pulling me in again, but not now. I need to learn more first. I'll keep watching until the time is right."

Hermione nodded. Ron opened the door to the Great Hall. Breakfast was waiting, and after that their homework, and then the DA. They had a lot to do, and Harry didn't want to waste time.

--------

The last week before Harry and his friends would meet Fred and George was pure agony. It passed so slowly Harry actually thought he would go backwards in time. Snape wasn't making things better, and Blackadder must have decided to help him.

After the last Advanced Potions lesson for the week Harry was immensely relieved. They had survived. Now he only had to do one more Occlumency lesson, and then it was going to be fun time.

The walk to Hogsmeade was enjoyable. It was cold as ever, but the sky wouldn't release the snow that hovered over them in the form of heavy, grey clouds. Luna and Neville walked with them, and they talked about the results of their research so far.

"We looked through every single book about Wicca magic and rituals," said Neville sadly. "But a ritual like Arawn's Kingdom was mentioned nowhere."

"The Room of Requirement was a better source," said Luna. Her voice wasn't as unconcerned and airy as it used to be; the burden had to be very heavy. "In fact, Anthony, Padma and I found so many dark books that we're still not finished looking though them." She smiled her quirky small smile. "We could do with some help."

Hermione nodded immediately. "Of course. We're on the right track, and I promise we will find a way to counteract that ritual before the Christmas break starts."

"Don't promise things you're not sure you can keep," said Ron wearily.

Hermione glared at him. "We _will_ find the solution, Ronald Weasley, and I expect you to help, too."

Ron groaned in defeat. Harry just snickered and slung his arm casually around Luna's shoulders. Neville sighed.

The time until noon was spent in Honeyduke's and Zonko's, and the group grabbed a Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. Then it was time to stroll inconspicuously to the appointed house. Seeing that Padma and Terry were entering, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville and Luna waited for a few seconds, and then made their way to the door and entered as well. A young man welcomed them with a large grin on his face. Harry wondered if that was the friend Fred and George had mentioned.

It was amazing. The living room was occupied by two thirds of the DA already, and the air was buzzing with a dozen different conversations. After Harry, Blaise came in, and they hurried to find a seat.

By ten past twelve the last members of the DA had arrived, and the whole group was squished in the living room. The unknown young man was serving lemonade and hot chocolate. When everyone was seen to he stood by the fireplace and grinned mischievously.

"Hello everybody. Welcome in my humble home. My name is Terence. The twins will be here shortly." His light brown eyes twinkled at the assembled students. "And you're the infamous DA. I'm so proud to meet you."

Some girls fanned themselves playfully and smiled sweetly. Hermione just rolled her eyes while Ron watched how Parvati played with a lock of her long, dark hair.

"The twins told me that you're searching for ways to use their inventions against the darker folk of our society." Terence's smile became grim. "As their manager and friend I must say that I'm proud of you. We can help you, and Fred and George will explain what you can do with their stuff."

An excited murmur filled the living room. Suddenly the fireplace flared up with green flames, and then Fred and George flew out like human cannonballs. They carried soot and dust with them. Hermione stood up, waved her wand, and spelled the dirt away.

"Thank you," said George with a bow.

Fred took his jacket off and threw it on the rack in the hallway. He then took a box out from one of his pockets and enlarged it. George did the same.

"Excuse our tardiness. Hello again," said Fred. "We are Fred and George Weasley – for all those who don't know us yet ...". That was the most falsely humble thing the twins had ever said, considering their war against Dolores Umbridge and, of course, their own membership of the DA, "And we will show you today how to handle our wonderful products in cases of dire need."

"That means attacks by Death Eaters and equally evil things," elaborated George. He opened his enlarged box and took a rocket out. "Let's start immediately. This is one of our prized Racketing Rockets. They make a nice ruckus. Just light, aim and fire them. A simple locator spell on them makes them hound their target."

Fred then pulled one of the infamous fireworks out of his box. "Crashing Crackers," he said proudly. "These things will give those bloody Death Pansies something to talk about. Just throw them." He wagged it and grinned. "One could consider it a short distance weapon. But we already tried to levitate them – it works quite well. And remember," his voice became ominous, "For every charm that is fired at them it intensifies their strength …"

Harry paid rapt attention to the twins and their explanations. It was interesting how much of their exploding things were usable for their purposes. The Skiving Snackboxes weren't very useful for fights, but Fred and George advised the DA to keep a few capsules and the antidote at hand, in case they were captured and had to shock the enemy.

In an amusing way it all made sense. They were young and wanted to have a little bit of fun while planning war, and the twins had a way to make people laugh while they explained how to kick a Death Eater's ass by using their things.

After the meeting they all thanked Terence for his hospitality. The young man waved it off and said that he was searching for allies in Hogsmeade and that it was nothing.

One by one the DA left the house when it was time to return to Hogwarts. Every single student thanked Terence again when they went out the door, and Harry had the feeling that he had found another friend and valuable ally.

----------

On Sunday Harry didn't call a meeting. He had some homework to complete, and he had a feeling that Blackadder would start the practical part of her lessons now. Besides, he was intrigued with the summoning of wild beasts.

This time Ron and Hermione came with him when he visited Hagrid in his hut. The half giant was happy too see them but talked them out of trying it, too.

"'Arry 'ere is enough trouble," he grumbled. "And he's good enough ter help yer all."

Ron seemed satisfied but Hermione was a bit miffed. Hagrid led them out behind the hut. Harry did the spell to call the Garden Gnomes again. The bowl of cream was attacked by ugly, potato-like creatures, but they weren't the only ones this time.

"Kneazles!" squealed Hermione in delight.

Crookshanks, whom she had taken with her, grumbled softly. She petted him lovingly and whispered sweet nothings.

Some Kneazles were slinking closer, eying the cream and the scurrying Garden Gnomes. Their cat-like appearance was intriguing. Most of them where rust red with long whiskers and very flat noses.

Hermione, who sensed the incredulous looks at her back, smiled. "Crookshanks is part Kneazle. That's why he's so intelligent and gets along with Animagi so well."

Crookshanks stood and stretched his legs. He was still fat and still the biggest cat Harry had ever seen. He strolled to his distant cousins and sniffed the air cautiously. Other Kneazles started to gang up against the Garden Gnomes.

Hagrid laughed. "Do yer have enough cream fer all?" he asked in his gruff voice.

Harry nodded. "Kneazle, Kneazle, Kneazle," he said jokingly, filling the cream in a second bowl. With loud roars of "Meow!" the animals jumped on him.

Crookshanks started to hunt Garden Gnomes, and like those in Ron's garden they giggled madly and ran away from him in a silly zigzag race. The Kneazles followed, and soon a full blown hunt war was going on.

"They're lovely," sighed Hermione.

Ron just shook his head. "They're big and hungry," he said.

Harry chuckled. "Hagrid, what am I to do if I want them to help me when I need it?"

"The easiest way is ter befriend 'em, of course," said Hagrid. "Just talk ter 'em. Those creatures understand yer quite well."

"Oh, okay." Harry thought for a few seconds. He couldn't deny it that he felt foolish for talking to Garden Gnomes and Kneazles, but he really wanted it to work.

Ron kneeled next to the still sipping bunch of Garden Gnomes and poked one. "They're useless, Harry. My mom throws them out all the time. They couldn't defend somebody or something if their life depended on it. And they don't have any feelings of honour in their ugly bodies …"

"Ron, watch ou–"

CRUNCH!

"_Aaaaaaah_!" Ron clutched his finger and yelped in pain. A Gnome had bitten him sharply for his insults.

Harry pried it off carefully and set it down on the brown, dead grass. "You shouldn't have said that," he scolded his friend who was now hobbling around, wailing and cursing the Gnomes. "They're living on Hogwarts grounds, _of course_ they have feelings of honour."

Hermione snagged Crookshanks who meowed in protest and pressed him against her belly. "Harry's right. But you just have to trample on other beings' feelings, don't you?" She rolled her eyes. "Honestly Ron, give them some credit."

Harry eyed the huffing Garden Gnomes. "I wonder if they would prove to us if they're capable of honour." He stretched out a finger to the Gnome that stood nearest to him.

Hermione held Crookshanks even tighter when she crouched next to Harry. "Yes, would you help us to fend Death Eaters off if they're invading Hogwarts?"

The Gnomes watched Crookshanks wearily, then the whole lot bared their tiny, sharp teeth and twittered loudly. The Kneazles regarded the whole scene with aloof expressions.

Crookshanks wrenched himself free from Hermione's arms and strolled back to the group of Kneazles. A faint meowing started while the twittering of the Gnomes became more excited in the group.

"I think they're conferring now," said Hagrid quietly. "We should leave 'em alone."

Harry nodded. Hermione straightened her robe. Ron, who was still moaning about his finger wandered up and down behind them. Hermione simply tutted, took her wand, grabbed Ron's arm and healed the wound with a clever spell.

"Really Ron, one would think you've paid attention in the DA …," she said disapprovingly.

"I couldn't think with all that _blood_ on my finger!" yelled Ron in exasperation.

"Sissy," laughed Harry. "Come on guys, let's get back."

Hermione grabbed her cat. Crookshanks looked positively disgruntled; it seemed he had found a nice Kneazle lady. The sea of Kneazle eyes followed their wake.

Hagrid collected his bowls. "I'll see yer tomorrow, kids!" he called after Harry, Ron and Herione.

Upon hearing this, the students turned around and waved. Harry was eager for Hagrid's new lesson – he wanted to know what that strange beast had been! Damn his promise to not look them up.

-------

But Hagrid didn't show them the Sandwolves on Monday. Harry was a bit put out, but the Apparating class made up for that more than enough. Hooch taught them how to pick an Apparating point via map and explained in very long detail what they had to keep in mind for long-distance-apparating.

Unfortunately they couldn't go and try how to do that properly; the wards around Hogwarts that prevented anyone from Apparating in and out at will were only loosened for their training purposes, not completely put down.

Homework was catching up on Harry again. Professor Sprout obviously thought it necessary to torture them with a three feet long essay about the Mandragora. It _should_ have been a walk in the park, but they were sixth years now and thus Professor Sprout expected a lot more information than she would have in their second year.

Blaise's strange behaviour irritated Harry on Wednesday again and this time he decided to ask, time and place be damned. In the break between the periods he dragged Blaise in the hallway.

Without preamble he hissed: "What's wrong with you? You know you can talk to me, and I know it has to do with me. Spill it already!"

Blaise had the decency to look uncomfortable and guilty.

"Uh, err," he said unintelligibly.

"Could you repeat that? I think I didn't quite catch the last part," said Harry dryly.

Blaise took a deep breath, and then uttered in a single breath: "Wouldyouallowmetosmellyou?"

"What?" asked Harry, thoroughly confused.

"Would you allow me to smell you?" repeated Blaise, now becoming very red in the face.

"Why would you want to do that?" wondered Harry, truly bewildered. "I thought you didn't want to–"

"_No_! I mean, yes, I know, but … please?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Give me the reason, Zabini. Now, before I hex you."

Blaise fiddled with his robes. "Well, you see … Gaah! It is Draco! He's been bugging me for _days_, saying that you use some strange perfume. It's driving him crazy, and now he's driving _me_ crazy!"

"That I can believe," Harry deadpanned. "Malfoy going crazy." Then he frowned. "But I told him already. I don't use perfume! What's that git thinking? That I'm lying purposefully? Jeez, I really have better things to do than thinking on how to torture him."

"I know. Just please, let me sniff you once so I can tell him to shut the fuck up."

A sly grin spread over Harry's face. "Okay. But I have one condition."

"Which would be ..."

"Tell me who it is you have your eyes on."

Blaise paled, grew hot in the face, and then paled again. "Oh no, Harry, no, no, _no_!" he whispered frantically. "I _can't_! You would all _laugh_ at me and I couldn't _stand_ it–"

"I wouldn't tell a word," said Harry a bit impatiently. "Really, do you think so little of me?"

"Not here," begged Blaise, looking down to both ends of the hallway. "I promise, I'll tell you, but not here and now."

"Fine." Harry turned his head to the left side, showing his neck to his friend. "Make it quick. It's strange to be sniffed."

Blaise grinned. "I guess it is …" He approached, trapped Harry against the wall and inhaled the scent of his warm, still slightly tanned skin.

"Ts, ts, ts," said Snape's silky voice just then. "I can't believe it. A Gryffindor and a Slytherin in a compromising position. What is this world coming to?"

Malfoy stepped out of the classroom, and his eyes immediately fell on Harry and Blaise who were really looking quite busy at the moment.

"I think I will deduct a few house points for inappropriate behaviour. Five points from Gryffindor for assaulting a Slytherin," Snape said. He blissfully ignored the fact that it was Harry who leaned against the wall, trapped between the stone and Blaise's body.

"Sir, I was tempted to partake. If you take points from him I must share the punishment," said Blaise genially, ever the gentleman.

"If you say so, Mr Zabini," said Snape smoothly. "I don't really see what would be so tempting, but have it your way … five points from Slytherin as well, for weak resisting abilities." With that he strode off, robes billowing behind him.

Malfoy stepped closer. "Blaise, I really don't get it. What do you see in Potter? He's plain and uninteresting, and just because he has a nice perfume now doesn't mean you should jump him in the hallways."

Harry wanted to protest that he didn't use some bloody body scent, but Blaise beat him to it. He leaned down again, sucked in a deep breath just above his skin. He could almost feel the soft lips of his friend linger on it.

"Well, he _does_ smell nice, Drake. Sue me," said Blaise nonchalantly. His eyes, however, held a warning.

"I gave you more credit," sneered Malfoy. "But it's your choice, of course." He turned around, and in that moment Blaise grimaced.

"What's that all about?" hissed Harry.

Blaise stepped back and shook his head slightly. "I don't really know. He's been going on about your scent for days now. I thought it would be simpler to let him believe you _have_ some mysterious perfume on you. Now he will keep his big mouth shut and spare me the headache."

"But I really don't _use_ any," whispered Harry in frustration. "What's that all about?!"

"I know you don't, and I really have _no_ idea what's going on," sighed Blaise. "Oh well. Let's go back, class is starting in a minute, anyway."

During second period Harry was content to watch Hermione's slumped posture. He would spare her his whiningabout Malfoy, and Blaise was still shifting nervously next to him. He was obviously nervous about his secret crush. Not that Harry could blame him; he had blackmailed him into it. But he didn't see why he should be the only one with embarrassing secrets.

Herbology was boring. Sprout had decided for a theoretical lesson where she gave out several copies of important texts. The Hufflepuffs were a bit more eager to listen to Madam Sprout's rambling whereas the Gryffindors were almost snoring off. Hermione had to elbow Ron several times to wake him up and save him the humiliation of drooling onto his desk.

At lunch Harry asked for coffee. He didn't know how else he could survive a double period of Divination with Trelawney when the winter-induced sleepiness had gotten to him with full force. Alas, even Potions had been uneventful. How was a boy supposed to stay awake?

Ron shared his craving for coffee. After so much sleep in the morning and a lot drowsing in Herbology he really could do with some caffeine. Hermione looked as if she wanted to disapprove, but then she thought better of it. Instead she ordered a mug of coffee herself.

"_What_!" she snapped at Dean's questioning glance. "Even I can be tired, can't I?"

Ginny giggled at her boyfriend's offended face. Seamus leaned closer to Harry.

"Hey, Harry, are you done with the hand readings yet?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah," replied Harry, pushing a strand of his black hair from his eyes. "It was not easy with Dumbledore … he has very funny lines, but the other two were okay, I guess."

"And … Hermione?" Seamus' voice grew anxious.

"Why don't you ask her that yourself?" Harry asked, only barely hiding his amused smirk.

"Uuh, she's quite … snappish today," said Seamus slowly. "And I really appreciate my head where it is – on my shoulders."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not privy to Hermione's agenda," replied Harry. "But I think it is clear that she'll have it ready in time."

"Yeah. If you have a minute, ask her, okay?"

Harry nodded, biting back his chuckle. Then he attended to his waiting broiled chicken.

On their way up to the north tower Ron was ranting about one thing or another. Harry politely nodded and smiled occasionally. He was still preoccupied by Malfoy's more than strange behaviour, and his crazy insisting that Harry was using some sort of perfume. And the most curious thing was that Blaise, who was usually quite a forward kind of guy, played along with Malfoy's silly assertions.

_But maybe_, Harry pondered, _he is really just tired of hearing the same, stupid thing over and over again_.

They were climbing up the silver ladder.

Trelawney's classroom was sticky as always. The smoke and the fumes flowed through the room, swirling and making Harry instantly dizzy. Before he could fall over and embarrass himself, Ron dragged him over to their usual seat at the window. With practised ease he pried the window open a bit, leaving a good gap for air supply. Around their seat Dean, Seamus and Blaise gathered.

Grudgingly Millicent Bulstrode followed a minute later, sharing the table with Blaise. She claimed to have a headache from all the smoke when Nott asked her scornfully about her choice of seat.

Trelawney glided into the room, her large, wet eyes gleaming behind the glasses. Shawls were flying everywhere in the slight breeze caused by the gap in the window. Lavender and Parvati regarded her with utmost adoration, as always.

Pansy, who sat next to Draco, as was her custom, was actually reading the newest edition of _Witch Weekly_. Confident of being able to do as she pleased, as in Professor Binn's class – or even Blackadder's – had obviously underestimated Trelawney's sense of indignation at being so cavalierly dismissed.

"Ten points from Slytherin, Miss Parkinson," said Professor Trelawney coldly. "If you would put your magazine away now … thank you, my dear." Her tone told the whole class that there was nothing dear about Pansy to Professor Trelawney.

Draco hit her sharply in the shoulder and hissed something. Pansy glared right back, then settled for pouting. Harry watched as Draco turned away with a disgusted expression on his face. He elbowed Ron and nodded in the direction of the two Slytherins.

"Serves him right. I bet his dad will make him marry that cow," muttered Ron gleefully.

"I hope so," purred Seamus. "Then it will be our turn to gloat about his misfortune for once."

"Today we will start with bird innards, or Augury, as it is called," said Professor Trelawney, oblivious to the gossiping Gryffindor boys. "This is a tricky subject of the arts of divination. Some of you might be offended by it." Her huge eyes looked at every face in the room. "The others, however, will be able to see into a future that is deeply embedded in the nature around us. It can foretell what will happen, regarding the fields of magic and energy in the nature around us."

Harry perked up at this. He might find it repulsive to look at slimy, bloody bird innards, but if he was possibly able to see what was happening next he would bear it. He raised his hand determinedly.

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Her huge eyes were watering again, this time out of joy at being asked voluntarily.

"Professor, how old will the innards be when we look at them?" Harry asked eagerly, inwardly already calculating what the answer would mean.

"It depends," she said airily. "I guess one to three days. Hagrid is bringing them."

"Thanks."

Trelawney inclined her glittering head like a queen, accepting the unusual gratitude from her favourite target for death predictions.

Ron leaned over when Trelawney glided to the other side of the room, all the time talking about the importance of this way of foretelling. "Why did you ask that?" he asked curiously.

"Quiet, Ron," said Harry softly. "I'll ask some more questions … You'll understand later." He pointed subtly at Millicent and Ron got the hint.

Harry then thrust his hand again in the air. Professor Trelawney now seemed slightly disturbed at so much attention.

"Yes, Mr Potter?"

"How long is the time span of these prophecies?"

She seemed surprised. "Oh … well, around three months."

The class bustled and wrote the information down. Trelawney's eyes blinked owlishly at the sea of wiggling quills. Ron, Seamus and Blaise looked at Harry with calm understanding, Parvati and Lavender seemed to be very proud of him, and Malfoy glared, alongside with Pansy.

_Divided in peace and united in hate_, Harry thought in amusement.

He even went so far as to smile brightly at the fuming Malfoy which riled him up even more. Pansy hissed in anger, which cost Slytherin another five points. Malfoy jabbed her again, this time in the ribs, to shut her up.

Trelawney brought in a basket that was filled with dead mocking birds. Every table took one bird, and then one student of each table went to get a sharp dagger and some tissues to wipe off the mess that would ensue.

"Ugh, are you doing the cutting, Harry?" Ron asked. He poked the dead bird a few times with a finger, and then shuddered. "I don't think I can do that …"

Harry shuddered himself. "If I must …"

"Now, dears, take your daggers, put them above the breast of your bird, prick the skin … yes, like that, Miss Brown … and then slice it open in one swift movement … Careful, boys! We need those innards in one piece."

Harry opened his mocking bird without problems. He had opened so many fish and chickens at the Dursleys' house that it made no difference that this was a smaller bird. And the dagger was really sharp.

"Now open it up … Wonderful, Mr Potter, very good, Mr Malfoy …"

A not so quiet "Ewww!" could be heard. Pansy strictly refused to look at the bird, lest alone touch it. Ron next to Harry looked revolted that Pansy had expressed something he was feeling himself.

From the corner of his eye Harry could see Millicent manhandling her poor bird. Feathers were flying everywhere and Blaise tried, without success, to take the dagger from her sturdy fingers. He sniggered.

Professor Trelawney still glided through the tables and overstuffed chintz armchairs and observed the work of her students.

"Well, now that everybody has opened their bird, take a look in your book, page forty seven. Try to decipher the innards of your bird. I expect a six inch long report at the end of this double period."

Some students groaned, and Harry came to the conclusion that open birds and a warm room were not a good mix. Ron gagged subtly and urged Harry on to start the examining so that they could get over with it.

Harry yanked the stubborn window open a bit more and breathed a sigh of relief at the cool November air. The nauseous feeling in his stomach settled a bit, but not much unfortunately. He hastily glanced at the innards, and then at the pictures and explanations in the book.

"You are writing," he said to Ron. "Okay. It looks like something interesting is happening this winter."

"-interesting is happening," mumbled Ron while writing it down. "And what?"

"Am I a clairvoyant?" joked Harry. "Well, powers are shifting slightly, but the bird tells me the biggest part will change later."

"How precise," commented Ron, and Harry snorted in laughter.

"Mmmh, and an aunt is watching the ducks drown at Christmas," said Harry, while looking at the bird in full earnest.

There was silence around his table. Then Ron and Seamus doubled over, howling in laughter and clutching their sides in a hopeless attempt to catch their breath.

"Oops," Harry said, grinning. "Sorry guys."

"What's the matter, Mr Potter?" Professor Trelawney asked with mild annoyance in her thready voice. Then she looked scathingly at Ron, Seamus, and Blaise who were still whinnying with laughter.

"I mixed up a few lines in my textbook, Professor," said Harry with all the calmness he could muster. He manfully tried to ignore his twitching mouth or fingers. "I said … oh, never mind, but I meant to say that the shift in energies is a result of ageing and developing. My fault …"

"Indeed," said Trelawney coolly. She took the bird and turned it around with long fingers. She pried it open a bit more and then started to prod at the slimy guts. "Well, Mr Potter, _at least_ you're able now to read the signs." She sniffed, wiped her hands on a tissue, and floated off.

The boys picked themselves up from the floor. Blaise wiped a tear from his eye, still snickering.

"Drowning ducks at Christmas … Wonderful …"

Millicent sniffed and watched the meaty clump that once had had feathers and a shape.

Harry and his friends hurried to leave the north tower as quickly as possible. They wanted to do a little Quidditch training today before it became too cold to fly for long. The next game would be in January, Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw, and the next game for Gryffindor would be in April, just before the Easter holidays. It had been so long for Harry since he had been flying just for fun. And with the last two years devoid of Quidditch it was just too good a chance to miss.

Hermione didn't even bother to try and remind the boys of their homework; in fact she just took some books and followed them out on the Quidditch pitch.

Halfway through the castle Harry noticed that something was amiss.

"Darn. Has anyone seen my scarf?" he asked.

"Nope," said Seamus. "Maybe you've forgotten it in some classroom."

"It must be in the Divination classroom," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Honestly boys, do you even _have_ a memory? He still had it at lunch."

"Oh no, I really don't want to go back up there," protested Harry weakly. "It will take _ages_ for me to get it."

"I'll lend you mine," offered Dean generously. "But I want a nice, long go on your Firebolt. Deal?"

"You're a crook," teased Harry. "I bet you hid it somewhere …"

They teased back and forth and the scarf was quickly forgotten.

Harry didn't find it in the following days. He even climbed up to Trelawney to ask her if she had found it, but she couldn't help him either.

So much for her Inner Eye, thought Harry, half amused and half annoyed. Can't even find something as trivial as a scarf …

But it was getting really cold in the castle, and no one was foolish enough to run around without one. He even considered begging his godfather for a new one, just to get the trouble out of his mind.

On Friday he felt bad enough to go down into the hospital wing and take a sip of Pomfrey's Pepper-Up Potion. In Advanced Potions Blaise asked him if he was getting a cold, and that was where he told him that he had lost his scarf. Luna told him that he could get a new one at any time, but Harry's stubbornness got the better of him and he insisted on getting back his old one.

Hanna and Ernie made a bit fun of him, teasing him about his insistence and unyielding posturing towards that particular topic.

"Well," said Harry, "that scarf was around my neck for five years, and I don't see why I should give it up when it has been so loyal to me."

His quirkiness about the scarf even went so far that he tried the summoning charm on it, without success.

On Saturday, at the DA meeting, he was finally quite miffed about the loss. He ranted for five minutes before he started the actual lesson, and by then most of them were chuckling shamelessly about his misery.

Blaise came to him, tears of joy brimming in his sky blue eyes.

"Potter, you're the king of dorks. Meet me tomorrow at seven in the dungeons. I owe you a name, remember?"

Harry snagged the slightly larger boy and held him close. "It. Had. Better. Be. Good."

Blaise laughed and hugged Harry tightly. A few Patronus beasts were galloping around them in an odd circle.

After the meeting Cho was also finally able to corner Harry. Hermione and Luna stayed thoughtfully behind after seeing Harry's distracted expression.

"Harry," said Cho timidly. "I … uh, I know you're searching your scarf and all," she smiled a painful little smile, "but I really need to talk to you."

"Then talk," said Harry detachedly.

Hermione behind him tutted in annoyance, and Cho's uneasiness grew.

"I just wanted to ask why you're so mean to me, all of a sudden," Cho blurted out. Her dark eyes gleamed with unshed tears. "We used to get along so well …"

"Mmh? Us? No, we didn't," said Harry, suddenly giving his full attention to the girl in front of him. He raked his hand through his hair.

Cho sobbed and clenched her hands in the sleeves of her shirt. "Yes we did," she said quietly. "We used to look at each other and smile …"

"Yeah, and you would cry as soon as I would say Cedric. Sorry Cho, but I don't like it to be compared to a dead guy." He rolled his eyes when tears spilled over her smooth cheeks. "What am I to say? Sorry it was him who died and not I? Sorry that his last words weren't for you? What do you _want_ from me?" His bright green eyes glowed dangerously, and all three girls in the room sucked in some air. Although it sounded harsh at least Hermione knew that it was true what Harry suspected.

"I-I just wanted to _talk_," said Cho defensively.

"I used to fancy you," stated Harry cruelly, changing the subject in the direction he wanted it to go, "But I think that's over now. I'm not a poor substitute for Cedric. I think you only wanted to go out with me so you could talk with me about him. Sorry, but I think I'm better than that."

Behind Cho Luna nodded slightly, with a look that told onlookers that she was rather put out with Cho because of her unreasonable behaviour.

"I never thought you could be so cold!" sobbed Cho. "I thought you were affected by it as much as me …"

"I am. But unlike you I don't like it to dwell in the past. I might have understood you in the beginning, but he won't come back just because you keep thinking of him."

Cho's sobbing became louder and more desperate.

"This is a war, Cho, and we can't afford to waste our strength with grieving too long. Cedric's death was pointless, yes, but what's done is done. We can only try to kick the ass of the bastard who did it." He swallowed around a tight lump in his throat. Cedric's grey eyes were staring up to him, lifeless and dull.

"I give up," she said after a painful minute. "I just can't go on like this. Harry Potter, you're a girl's wost nightmare!"

"That's fine by me," said Harry, equally tight-lipped and frustrated. "I don't have time for that anyway."

Cho took a last, shaky breath, and then she turned on her heel and stalked away.

"Luna?" Hermione asked her friend, "Can I leave you alone with the research for a short while?"

"Of course," replied Luna softly.

Hermione nodded curtly, grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him out of the Room of Requirement.

"Let's take a little walk," she said quietly.

They trudged along the hallway and stopped in front of a huge, gothic window at the end of it.

"I don't know why I said what I said," said Harry softly. "I mean, yeah, I _wanted_ to say it because she got on my nerves with all her crying and moaning about Cedric … I'm so sick of it, 'Mione."

"I know," whispered Hermione. She embraced Harry carefully and stroked his back.

"You know what? I'm glad I said it," mumbled Harry into her bushy hair. "Everybody tells me I'm too nice to everybody. I'm glad I'm standing on my own. At least in this one thing."

"You'll find someone better than her," said Hermione reassuringly. "Someone who likes you for what you are, not for what you've seen."

Harry pulled back and smiled weakly. "Seeing her would have reminded me of Cedric even more, I suppose." He linked his arm with Hermione's and started walking back to the main staircase. "And besides, we really have to do enough. We don't need love to complicate things unnecessarily, right?"

"I wouldn't agree on that completely," said Hermione vaguely. "The workload is quite heavy, though."

Harry just laughed. "And it is really you? Maybe I should check for signs that you took Polyjuice Potion …"

Hermione shoved him playfully. She walked with him until they reached the first landing of the stairs.

"I'll go back and help Luna a bit with the research," she said. "And you take care of yourself. Maybe you'll get some homework done … but I don't dare hope too much."

"Okay 'Mione. Have fun." Harry waved and proceeded to descend the stairs while Hermione went back to the seventh floor.

True to his word he did some of his homework, but he was too worked up to do the more difficult stuff. Ron managed to distract him with a couple of matches of wizarding chess. Thankfully no one asked him about Cho, but he knew they would eventually, and he also guessed it would be the number one topic by Monday, anyway. For a bunch of stuck up book worms Ravenclaws were astoundingly well-informed gossips.

He survived the Saturday evening relatively unscathed. Dinner in the Great Hall was quiet, at least on his part, and he avoided looking over the Hufflepuff table at the Ravenclaw table. He could already feel the eyes on his person and cursed Cho for her overly emotional attitude.

This was one of the reasons why he spent the Sunday in the Gryffindor tower. Hermione convinced him to do all the homework that was left for next week and forced him to cram some more potions ingredients for Snape. Only after several hours of studying Harry dared to ask if she was working on the hand reading for Snape.

"Of course," she said. "He has rather interesting hand lines, actually. I'll be done at Christmas."

Harry decided to give Seamus the message and leave her alone with it. As much as he hated Snape, it was no use to try and weaken the respect Hermione held for him. She would only berate him, and he really didn't feel up to it. Besides, now that he was able to attack Snape in their lessons he felt better at night. More secure. And he _did_ feel grateful for the trust Snape showed him, he just preferred to stay oblivious about that new, scary revelation.

Atten to seven in the evening he slipped out of the common room to meet Blaise down in the dungeons. Of course he was curious and wanted to know who Blaise's secret crush was, but a part of him hoped that his friend would just give him his scarf back. Now that it was lost he noticed how important the stupid thing was to him.

Sighing, he walked down the long hallways and moving staircases. After five and a half years he knew the trick stairs by heart and knew what to do when the stairs decided to move while he was trotting down them.

He was so lost in thoughts that he only woke from his reverie when he had reached the entrance archway to the dungeons. And he didn't need to wait long for Blaise to show up as well.

"There you are, hero," teased Blaise. "Come on, I don't want to do this here." He led Harry to an old classroom. It was empty save three old, battered tables and a few chairs.

Harry sat on one table and dangled his legs. "Well? Are you going to enlighten me now?"

"Hush. Let me place some silencing charms first," retorted Blaise shortly. "_Silencio_!"

"Oh, so now you are ashamed to let the public know of your love interest?" It was meant as teasing, but Blaise grimaced slightly and then smiled sadly.

"Something like that. It would be highly unbecoming of me in my position as a pureblood, true, but more unseemlywould be that it is indeed a Gryffindor that I fancy."

Harry was now genuinely curious. He leaned a bit forward. "Well, I promised you I would keep it a secret, and I will. Tell me! I'm dying to know."

Blaise chuckled, and then took a shaky breath. "Actually I think it will be not that much of a surprise, but … it is Seamus." He waited for a few seconds, but when it became apparent that Harry wouldn't say anything anytime soon, he recoiled slightly. "I told you it is gross …"

"What?" Harry woke from his stupor. Then he saw Blaise's crestfallen expression. "Oh – _Oh_! No, Blaise! It's perfectly fine with me …" He raked a hand through his messy hair, and then sighed loudly. "I mean – Wow! That's certainly something, you know … Not only a Gryffindor but a crazy Irishman and halfblood at that …" He blinked. "Are you serious?"

Seeing that it was an inappropriate moment to make fun of Harry's godfather Sirius, Blaise only nodded. "I fear it is. I don't quite understand it myself. He's loud and flirty and obnoxious sometimes, never serious …"

"Like someone else I know," muttered Harry, staring pointedly at Blaise. "Honestly, as long as you're discreet no one in the DA will take offence, if anyone at all."

"I'm really not bothered if someone is homophobic or shit like that," Blaise said dismissively. "But it will be a problem if _he_ is. I mean, he's _Irish_, probably _catholic_, and if the witch burnings the Muggles did a few centuries ago are any indication they don't like witchcraft or homosexuality." He looked sullen for a moment. "And we have a lot of Muggle borns here at Hogwarts."

"Are you? I mean, gay?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yeah. I think so. I mean, girls are just … girls. I don't want to kiss them or do things like that."

"Hmmm." Harry contemplated the answer a bit. "I liked being kissed by you," he said after a while. "I didn't like it that you were crying, but the kiss was nice."

Blaise shrugged. "I guess it's not that much of a difference if a male or a female mouth is kissing you."

"I suppose you're right," said Harry. Then he blurted out: "Cho was talking to me yesterday. She wanted to know why I didn't like her anymore."

Blaise sighed. "I don't know if that girl is simply dense or desperate. Everybody in the DA knows that you don't want to make up. What Hermione told me was enough to see why." He quirked a little smile. "Personally I believe that she's only after your fame. She couldn't have Diggory's looks, now she's after you for the memory of him and your fame. Pathetic if you ask me."

Harry felt like an ice block now. He knew it might sound stupid what he was about to say, but in some way he was relieved that he could tell somebody who wouldn't laugh.

"If somebody wants to love me, I want them to love me for who I am," he said hesitantly. "Cho sees the scar and the memories of Cedric, others see the wizard who will hopefully bring Voldemort down. I want love for myself."

Blaise looked at him in understanding. "You won't believe me, but you have the sympathy of half of the Slytherins. We know exactly how it is to be married off for political and economical reasons. They only see your money, not your face, your dreams, or needs. It's pretty much the same. Even Draco can't deny the affinitybetween you and him on this."

Harry snorted in morbid amusement. "That's consolation, alright." He smiled at Blaise. "But back to our topic. I think you and Seamus would make a cute couple. As his dorm mate I can tell you that he's naturally curious and not shy about exploring things. And I bet it won't be difficult to attract him – you're handsome, you know." Harry blushed.

Blaise grinned slyly. "Why, thank you, Potter." He eyed the flustered boy for a bit. "But if you think girls only want you for your fame you're sadly mistaken. You filled out rather nicely yourself." His grin became even broader. "Otherwise I wouldn't have kissed you."

Harry blushed even more. Fortunately the room was only half lit, otherwise he would have looked like a ripe tomato.

"You know, I'm actually quite fond of you too, Harry. But I just know you're not for me, so I'll spare us both the fumbling and the humiliation," said Blaise softly. "But if you're in for a cuddle or two occasionally I wouldn't say no."

"Git," mumbled Harry. "I thought your dirty mind was occupied?"

"It is, but, as all Slytherins do, I have a backup plan for eventual setbacks or failures."

"I see," said Harry lightly, in a tone of voice that clearly said that he indeed did see. "Come cuddle, snake-boy."

Blaise chuckled and stepped up to the table and embraced Harry tightly. They stayed like that for a few minutes, and then Harry said regretfully that he had to go back or his friends would send a search party.

"Don't tell him," hissed Blaise when they reached their parting point. "I want to snag him all by myself."

"I won't spoil your fun," promised Harry.

He idly wandered back through the hallways. It was almost time for dinner, so he decided against returning into his common room. Prowling around was an option too, and after being cooped up together with Hermione and dusty books all Sunday it was a welcome distraction for his aching limbs.

He turned a corner – and made a sudden retreat.

The Malfoys. _Again_!

It was really becoming annoying now, and Harry quickly thought his options over. He couldn't, with good conscience, compliment the older Malfoy out very well. It was in his rights to visit his son, and it was a Sunday, too, so he didn't even disturb classes. But then their conversation floated over and he found himself rooted to the spot.

"-I told you, it's just there," said Malfoy in an annoyed voice. "I don't know where he got it, but it is so _good_." A pause. "I would like to have it, Father."

"It wouldn't do you any good," replied Mr Malfoy in a cool voice. "You're practically obsessed by it now. What do you think would happen if you got the full dose?"

Harry didn't dare to watch them around the corner. But the topic of conversation certainly was interesting. Was Draco obsessed over something? He smirked. That prat always wanted things he couldn't have.

"It's driving me _crazy_, Father. It's on Weasley and Granger, heck, on all those bloody Gryffindors! And he wouldn't even tell me where he got it or what its name is." Malfoy's voice sounded a bit whiny now, and Harry's smirk could have lit the hallway. "That damn Potter! I just asked him a stupid question, and he's just telling me he doesn't _use_ any."

Now it was about him? Harry perked up even more. He had a suspicion, and frankly, he couldn't believe that Malfoy was still after his mysterious perfume, which, in truth, was only the natural odour of his skin. He obviously hadn't believed him in Trelawney's classroom, and Blaise's comment hadn't helped to clear things, either.

"He's lying, then," said Mr Malfoy softly. "How can it be on other persons if he doesn't use a scent spray?"

Harry bit his lip to keep himself from barging around the corner and give them both a piece of his mind.

"Just ignore him. Sooner or later he will tire of it and use something else. Don't make yourself go mad about someone as unimportant as he." Lucius Malfoy's voice held a warning now, and Draco didn't respond.

Having heard enough, Harry turned on his heel and stalked away. He still had enough brains to do so quietly, but he was positively fuming. So now he was not only unimportnt but a liar, too?

Harry rushed through the corridor that led to a less used hallway for a few minutes without paying attention and turned quite a few times. He wasn't really looking where he was going, and thus practically bumped into–

"Malfoy senior," growled Harry. "Why can't you stay out of my way just _once_ when you're here?" He wondered fleetingly where the hell he was now.

"Excuse me," said Malfoy sharply. "I wasn't expecting to run into an irate teenager in this corridor, at this time of day."

Harry just snorted. Malfoy's grey eyes surveyed his appearance, then he suddenly stepped closer, right into Harry's personal space.

"Forgive me," Malfoy whispered. He leaned down and took a deep breath. His hair tickled Harry's cheek. Then he straightened himself and took a quick step back. "Merlin, Potter, what _is_ that scent you're using?" he asked, his composure slightly disturbed, the grey eyes searching.

"Oh, not you, _too_!" groaned Harry in irritated desperation. "I don't _use_ a bloody perfume! Get it already! I told the ferret so and now I'm telling you!"

"No perfume …" Malfoy seemed to have difficulties to grasp that. But then he nodded curtly. "Good evening, Mr Potter. As pleasant as these encounters may be, I have business to do." His closed up expression said anything but him having pleasure at meeting with Harry.

"On Sunday?" Harry couldn't help but ask. Damn his fast mouth.

"Yes, on Sunday. Not that it is any of your concern. Excuse me now." And he stalked away.

Sullenly Harry cast a locator charm and spotted the Great Hall. Why of all people had Lucius Malfoy to be the new regular guest at Hogwarts? Why couldn't it be Fudge? At least it would be relatively safe to annoy that particular specimen of a wizard. Not to mention funny. But Malfoy was strong and mean …

He trudged through the maze of corridors, finally arriving in front of the doors that led into the Great Hall which was buzzing with activity; the students were coming down from everywhere to eat dinner. He squeezed himself in, together with a first year Hufflepuff and two gossiping Ravenclaws from fourth year. Both of the latter gave him dirty looks.

He searched the Gryffindor table for his friends. Today the elves were supplying them with mashed potatoes, vegetables and stew, and Harry hastened to take a seat and shovel some food onto his plate.

And then, in the middle of eating a delicious piece of treacle tart, an important question popped up in his mind.

Had Lucius Malfoy's hair always been that silky and luxurious?

-------

Of course Harry didn't talk about that disturbing question with anyone. It would be embarrassing, not to mention endanger his life severely. At least where Ron or Malfoy or both were involved. He quelled his rising panic with the weak consolation that he found Blaise's eyes nice, too. And there were more horrible things in life than being interested in boys, were there?

Besides, Harry had too much to do than to think about the texture of Malfoy's hair. The teachers and Hermione seemed to think that, now that Christmas was approaching steadily, more homework was in order. Therefore Harry spent even more time in the library, the common room or empty classrooms to finish his workload.

Unfortunately Snape was in a bad mood again this week. And Harry suspected that it was Hermione's fault, again. She had sneaked off to ask him some stupid question again, and by now Snape must be really put out.

Harry must have looked like ignorance personified on Wednesday (without trying to, which was even sadder), because Snape asked him a lot of mean questions. And was, of course, even more grumpy when Harry managed to answer almost all of them right.

On Thursday he couldn't even read his newest notes on shielding spells against fire attacks because Blackadder insisted that they made some nice Yule amulets from oak, fir, mistletoe and other stupid things. Harry felt like five again. Hermione elbowed him and told him to stop the whining – rules about grounding and building centres and circles would follow sometime later that year and he should be grateful for the reprieve as long as they had it.

Binns was teaching them now the Goblin revolts of Hungary, and it was even more boring than the Veela quarrels between France and Spain. At least there had been attractive creatures involved …

McGonagall tortured them all with a new madness, called "Apple into tree transfiguration". It was a mean piece of work she had them do, and Harry was not sure how and when he would be able to transform his apple into a nice, big apple tree – without placing a growing charm on it, that is. Even Hermione was having difficulties, and that was saying something.

At least Hagrid had a heart, and this Friday Harry finally got what he had wanted for two weeks now. Hagrid led the reluctant class again into the Forbidden Forest.

Tiny snow flakes were trickling down as they wandered down the hills to the edge of the forest. Malfoy bit his slightly blue lips but thankfully refrained from saying anything. Pansy was shivering too much and tried to bundle up in her Slytherin coat to even try and latch herself on Malfoy's arm. A lot of people seemed very grateful for that.

"Come on, yer' slower than toddlers!" called Hagrid over their heads.

"Maybe because it's _freezing_, and the forest is _dark_," snapped Hermione in a very un-Hermione-like way. Mumbling she wound her scarf tighter around her neck.

Ron didn't say anything; he was occupied with watching out for spiders. Fang was panting next to him. Harry was very glad that he had overcome the dog-flu – Hagrid had told him that the tongue of his beloved pet had been blue for a day or two. But now he was completely healthy and accompanied them happily.

Hagrid led the stubbornly slow walking students on a clearing that no one had ever seen before. He loosened a rope from a peg and let some dead does down.

"Okay class, terday we're going ter see some Sandwolves. 'Ere are some rules fer yer." He spread the does out next to each other and slapped Fang's wet muzzle away playfully. "Yer' not supposed ter touch 'em," he said. "They're beautiful, these Sandwolves, really, but really quick with their teeth. And yer should probably avoid ter look 'em into the eyes fer too long … could make 'em nervous."

Half of the class groaned.

"Another dangerous beast," said Parvati reproachfully to Lavender. She shuddered and buried her hands in the pockets of her robe. "I would like to see a nice animal for once."

A few other students nodded at that. Harry just wanted to hex someone, but he was distracted.

"I think I hear 'em coming," whispered Hagrid. "Just stay still and pay attention. I want yer ter make a painting of 'em after class …"

Harry felt a prickling sensation in his neck, as if being watched. He suppressed the urge to turn around for all he was worth; it could simply be Malfoy who was trying to annoy him with his staring. Then the bushes at the other end of the clearing shuddered and all the whispering and muttering died down.

One pair of icy blue eyes peered through the branches, then a second, a third, and at least seven pairs of wonderful, almond shaped eyes. Dark brown paws tested the ground, and with a jolt Harry recognised the beasts from the other lesson, when they had seen the Thestrals.

The leader of the pack crouched forward, cautiously sniffing the air. The long, slender head with the pointed ears turned in every direction, and the black nose twitched at the scent of rotting flesh.

The more the beast crouched forward toward the flesh, the more Harry admired it. The intelligent eyes, the dark face, the slender build – it was perfection. A few dark brown, tiger-like stripes adorned the caramel coloured shoulder blades and hips while the long, sleek tail, equally dark as the paws and lower legs, was dark to the middle. It didn't even look like a wolf very much, except the face and the legs. It was slender and obviously very flexible, like a cat.

The Sandwolf eyed the group of students suspiciously, but after a moment he dismissed them with cat-like arrogance and started to eat the meat. When he was sated it wagged its tail and called his pack with short, hoarse barks. One after the other they left the bushes and trotted up to their leader, sniffing him shortly, and then plunged into the feast.

Harry sneaked up to Hagrid, touching him lightly to announce his presence.

"Wow," he whispered. "They're beautiful, Hagrid."

"I knew yer would like 'em," said Hagrid proudly. He patted Harry on the head, obviously pleased with himself.

Girls behind them cooed over the beasts, even though a few boys complained about their remarkably bad eating habits. Harry just shrugged. In his opinion, even with blood all over their gorgeous fur the Sandwolves were wonderful, and he would do some extra research on them. Unfortunately only Dean could draw well and wouldn't have problems to paint a Sandwolf, but Harry wanted to do well in this particular lesson.

They spent the better part simply watching the beasts eat, and toward the end Hagrid explained a few more things about them.

"Can yer see the fur strands on the back of their paws?" he asked happily. "That's a sign fer a special magical ability. Which one?"

Hermione raised her hand. Hagrid motioned her to speak. "This fur gives Sandwolves the ability to fly, although no one has ever seen one really fly because they live in forests most of the time. But it is said that they can run really fast, like the wind, which gave them the other name windrider. But it's not commonly used."

Harry raised his hand. "Would they lose their ability to fly and run fast if this fur was cut?"

Hagrid smiled. "Good question, but no. It is merely fer show yer could say. Five points for Hermione's right answer."

After that the class walked back into the castle. Ron, Dean and Seamus had time to spare, but Harry and Hermione had now Advanced Potions with Blaise and Malfoy and couldn't afford to be late. After heading to Gryffindor Tower to drop the wet cloaks they met Terry and Luna in the hallway, directly in front of their classroom. Two minutes later Malfoy and Blaise arrived. Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot arrived later, just in time. Snape stalked up to them, black robes billowing behind him as usual.

"Get in," he snarled. His dark gaze lingered on Hermione, and Harry just knew that she had it coming.

Hermione, however, seemed utterly unconcerned with Snape's bad temper. Her serene expression was almost peaceful, and for that Harry envied her thoroughly. Nothing that Snape did could hurt her, not after her fourth year where he had let her teeth grow instead of sending her to the hospital wing. It seemed it was payback time now.

And if he was honest, he couldn't wait to see what would happen between the two masterminds.

The class shuffled in and the students took their respective seats. Snape stood in the front, menacing as ever. His gaze flickered over to Hermione again, and Harry could see a movement of her bushy hair – she must have raised her chin defiantly.

"Abbott! I think it is time to see if you're prepared," said Snape harshly, turning his head abruptly. "What's the main ingredient in the most common cleansing potion?"

And Hannah struggled to answer his questions. She was clearly preoccupied and not prepared for the sudden change of mind. It was sad to see Hufflepuff lose twenty points. This time Harry couldn't even feel sorry. They had already covered that potion in fifth year, and even he could tell what the most important main ingredients were.

Next to him, Blaise tutted quietly.

Sighing, Harry stared on the blackboard and hoped that this lesson would be over soon. A cruel Snape who took points for fun was one thing, but a righteous irate Snape who was confronted with general laziness quite another. That was worse. _Much_ worse.

And the thought that he had to learn Occlumency and Legilimency with that man was sickening. Did Snape do anything else besides being snarky and a git, ever?

_Well, obviously not_, Harry thought as Snape deducted five points from Luna for daydreaming.

When they were allowed to leave the snake's den forty-five minutes later Harry felt clammy with cold sweat. He and Blaise looked at each other and snorted softly. Hermione left the classroom like a queen, her head held high and her facial expression as serene as before. She smiled softly at Harry, and then wandered down the hallway.

At lunch Hermione just shrugged when Harry asked her about today's Potions lesson. She wasn't even concerned that Snape would most probably start a vendetta against her now.

"Look, Harry. He doesn't intimidate me anymore. If he wants a fight he will get a fight." She smirked evilly. "And I will be prepared."

Dean, Seamus and Ron stared at her in open admiration, Parvati and Lavender whispered quietly amongst themselves.

"I expect you to stay out of it, of course," her smirk morphed from evil to scornful, "because we wouldn't want any civilian casualties, now would we?"

"Okay," said Harry simply. He really knew better than to interfere with Hermione when she was on a warpath.

"He's even watching you now!" hissed Lavender frightfully. "I bet he's thinking about possibilities to chop you up and use you in some potion …"

"Lavender," Hermione said in her best know-it-all voice, "human flesh is _not_ part in _any_ potion. All he could use would be my _hair_ and my _blood_, and that's highly unlikely because blood is used for personal potions, such as love potions and–"

"I think we got it," said Ron without looking at her. "If you don't fear him, fine; I'm not in the same class with you, I'm safe. So you can do what you want."

Neville giggled nervously. Harry just rolled his eyes at his friends. Snape might be a grumpy bastard, but until now he had never killed a student, and that was all that mattered to him right now. As long as he wasn't in the crossfire he didn't give a damn about their silly feud.

Even Ginny left Hermione alone. The two had obviously become good friends over the summers, and they probably knew each other as they knew themselves. Hermione looked an awful lot like the proverbial plotting Evil Queen, mixed together with the ever grinning Cheshire Cat. No wonder Ginny preferred to flirt with Dean and steal food from his plate.

"So, what do you think, Harry?" Hermione asked casually after chewing on her piece of corn pie. "Will Malfoy _visit_ Hogwarts again this advent?"

"I hope so," replied Harry. "Maybe he'll give me another hint."

"I wonder what he wants here, anyway," said Ginny coldly. "That bastard should still rot in Azkaban, not wander around in our school."

Ron grunted in agreement.

"There's nothing we can do now," Hermione stated in a matter-of-fact voice. "And as long as he's willing to give us some hints I can live with him."

Lavender giggled. "Actually, me too. I saw him last Sunday, and he looked really good …"

"Yeah, I bet his cloak was from Aubère, Paris," said Parvati excitedly. "Absolutely gorgeous. My parents bought me a dress there once for my birthday, and Padma and I simply couldn't decide between champagne and red–"

The rest of the listening Gryffindors tuned the chattering girls out. Hermione was busy shovelling her corn pies down, which she had covered with sour cream or marmalade. Harry decided to eat quickly himself, so he could follow her into the library and do something useful, his homework, for example. Despite the few lessons on Friday it was his most tiring day. He blamed it all on Snape who just _had_ to torture him before the weekend, but on the other hand Voldemort hadn't sent him lovely visions of death and destruction lately, therefore it was a bit easier to handle the Occlumency lessons.

A bit.

Which was certainly too little still.

In the library he concentrated on drawing a Sandwolf. He was fiercely determined to get it right. But his right hand was more designed to hold a quill or a wand or a broomstick than a pencil.

"You like them, huh?" Hermione asked after almost one hour and five sheets of mutilated parchment later. She was clearly amused.

"Mmh," said Harry cryptically.

"What do you see in them, other than their obvious charms?"

Now Harry looked up. His glasses sat right on the tip of his nose, and he pushed them back.

"Oh, I don't know. I think I like them because they're strong and fast. And a good mix of dog and cat."

Hermione chuckled. "Dog and cat?" She put her quill aside and took Harry's scribbles.

"Yeah," said Harry, frowning. "The way they crouched – like a cat. But they look more like dogs, don't they?"

"_Yours_ look more like rubber hoses." She giggled and gave the parchment back. "But seriously, I hope you don't have stupid ideas, concerning or involving these Sandwolves …"

"No?" said Harry, not trying very hard to sound innocent. Of course he knew how fine-tuned Hermione's danger-detectors were and played at it.

"Oh Harry!" snorted Hermione in exasperation. "What are you planning now? You don't want to try and summon them, do you?"

"Good idea, but no, not exactly," said Harry, smirking.

Hermione froze. "Oh no. No, no, _no_. _Harry_! That's _dangerous_!"

"What did I say?" he joked. He put his pencil aside and crumbled his pitiful attempts at drawing.

Hermione leaned forward over the table and hissed: "Do you really want to try to transform into a Sandwolf, Harry?"

"I didn't say that," he said defensively. "I just want to learn more about them. And you heard Sirius. Our truest form will reveal itself somehow, and I don't want to be stuck with a form that I wouldn't like for long."

"That's understandable, but Harry, transformations into magical beasts are extremely rare and difficult, not to mention dangerous," Hermione tried to persuade him in a low, almost panicked voice.

"Don't worry," he said quietly. "I won't try anything. I'm just looking around a bit. Really, I won't take any chances."

Hermione let out a deep breath and leaned back. "Hopefully. Just so that you know it – there is no way to transform back a misshaped animagus who tried to shift into a magical beast. Not completely, anyway."

"If I had a choice, I would become a Phoenix," said Harry dreamily. "They're strong and can heal. That's cool." He took a new sheet of parchment but hesitated. "On the other hand … they're too tame for my tastes."

Hermione smiled. "Sooner or later you'll know what to do." Her eyes glowed in excitement. "And I really want to start learning how to transform," she whispered, "but we promised. Sometimes my own honesty is driving me nuts."

Harry laughed. Hermione's rebellious streak was funny, and it only seemed to grow stronger and stronger with time. He was almost sorry for Ron who wasn't here to see what he saw.

But soon enough it was three o'clock, and Ron barged in, directly from some Quidditch training. Dean, Seamus and Neville sat down at their table, too, and the quiet was gone for good.

They had to do an essay for Binns anyway, and he was actually glad to spend the last few hours before the "Snape-torture" with friends and have some fun. They left the library in favour of their own common room some time later, and dinner was as light for Harry as always on Friday evenings. He still didn't trust his stomach.

"Don't let him get to you," said Ginny passionately when he prepared to leave.

"Yeah, give the greasy git a kick in his bony–"

"_Ron_!"

"Do your best to annoy him," cheered Dean, tugging at Ginny's long red hair.

"You don't expect a report, do you?" Harry asked suspiciously. After those lessons he was too drained to handle their questions. Besides, he hadn't even told Hermione what exactly was going on in Snape's office.

Sighing he left the common room and wandered down the dark, torch-lit hallways and corridors. For once the stairs stayed asthey should and he arrived in the dungeons a bit early. Not one single soul was out here, and Harry felt like gritting his teeth and envy his clueless, carefree friends. Heck, he even envied his carefree enemies! At least Malfoy wasn't around to tease him about remedial Potions. That would have been the last straw, and Gryffindor couldn't really afford a one hundred point loss.

He knocked at eight o'clock sharp and entered when Snape called him in. He felt really bad, and the feeling of dread that accompanied him whenever Friday night arrived never failed to show up. It was unnerving.

Snape hadn't even opened his mouth fully when Harry had his wand pointed already at his head.

"_Legilimens_," he said coldly, and the lesson began.

Later in the common room he met with Hermione who was the only one still there. She sat in front of the fire, peacefully reading a thick book about Wicca rituals.

"It looks like you've found something about that crap," said Harry tiredly to her, startling her badly.

"Harry!" She goggled for a moment, then put the book down and rushed to his side, leading him to the couch and gently pressing him down. "What the hell did he DO to you tonight? You look, well, terrible!"

"Gee, thanks," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"Don't you think it's time that you told someone what those lessons are like?" she said gently. "I mean, I see you stumbling back every Friday night, and I always ask myself what the hell is going on down there." Her brown doe eyes pleaded with him.

Harry felt his reluctance crumble. He knew she was right and he ought to tell someone what was happening with him, but at the same time it was scary to put so much trust into one person. And he wasn't sure Hermione could handle it, despite her ability to overcome all obstacles.

"Well, I told you what it is about," said Harry slowly. "It's kinda like mind-reading. Scary, really. I do see why Snape is trying to teach me to close my mind, but he never tells me how!" He snorted in frustration and ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair. His scar was prickling unpleasantly. "He just attacks and wades through my head–"

"That's awful," whispered Hermione compassionately.

"-and I have to try and fend him off without knowing what to do," continued Harry, thoroughly ignoring her comment. He smiled grimly. "At least his office has been in ashes for four times now, and I can tell he's getting tired with it all."

"But you said you'd be getting better now," Hermione insisted softly.

"I do. But that's even worse. Now I can _feel_ him wandering through my mind and memories, and I _still_ can't do anything to throw him out. It feels … I don't know, it's this kind of helplessness you can't fight although you're strong and all that, you know?"

Hermione did know. She felt terribly sorry for Harry to have to go through this. She twirled a strand of her curly hair around a finger and pulled at it at odd intervals.

"I swear," she said slowly, "I'll help you with this. You'll so smash him, Harry, he won't know what hit him …"

Harry sighed, burying his head in his hands, ruffling his black, untidy hair even more.

"I'm better at Legilimency," he muttered. "Much better. He can't fend me off completely, but he has set up traps for me, and I still have to find out how to avoid them."

"Get your cloak," ordered Hermione. "I think a little walk is in order."

Since they hadn't Prefect duty tonight they snuck out of the Gryffindor Tower and walked as quietly as possible down the hallways. Harry held the map while Hermione lightened the worn out piece of parchment every now and then to check for teachers, Mrs Norris or Filch. One time they had to press themselves against a wall and hold their breaths because Peeves floated by and cackled evilly while throwing Sprout's biting begonias in the empty classrooms.

Soon Harry discovered that their little trip led them to the library, and he could have slapped himself for not seeing it earlier.

Hermione pulled him in and walked determinedly to the Restricted Area. Through the door they went, and into the darkness. Hermione seemed to know where to go, so he tagged behind obediently, holding up the invisibility cloak.

They eventually halted in front of a lectern where a roll of parchment lay on top.

"This is the register," whispered Hermione. "It will make our search a lot easier." She pulled her wand out and tapped it softly against the parchment. "Books about Occlumency and Legilimency," she whispered.

The parchment glowed shortly, and then the blank space filled with titles and numbers. Hermione read them, nodded, and then deleted it.

"Let's go," she said quietly. "The best books are standing in row twenty, shelf twelve …"

Harry wondered if there were any books that were truly useful, but he guessed they just had to find out.

The Restricted Section of the library was always eerie. Harry wondered if this had to do with the fact that he had never been here in the daylight. But he doubted it. Only at night one saw books that had obvious bloodstains on their spines, and some were looking outright evil. Even the beautiful pressed silver and gold letters on the covers and spines of the books couldn't lessen his wariness.

Shelf twelve of row twenty was filled with all kinds of books that had to do with the mind. Hermione hissed the titles out they were searching, and Harry started to look for them. Together they only needed ten minutes to get all the books Hermione deemed important enough. Luckily there were no books like the biting monster books from Hagrid or the screaming book they had discovered in their first year. They quickly shrunk them and put them away.

KLINK.

Both swivelled around in shock. It came from the library hall, where Madam Pince's desk stood.

"Damn," muttered Harry at the sudden noise. "Come, Hermione, let's get out of here."

She nodded and hurried to come under the invisibility cloak. They made sure it covered all parts of them, and then they started to slink out of the Restricted Area. But luck wasn't with them right now. There, in the pale light, stood Malfoy and Pansy, bickering over something in hushed voices.

Harry mentioned Hermione to stay completely still. Malfoy was many things, but deaf was unfortunately not one of them. And because of that Harry pushed Hermione slowly back into the shadows where they were at least half hidden behind a shelf.

"What the hell are they doing here?" hissed Hermione once they were out of earshot. "They are supposed to check the classrooms!"

Harry just rolled his eyes. "'Mione, technically we aren't allowed to be here, either."

The talking of the two Slytherins became a bit louder, and they both strained their ears to catch what was said.

"I'm telling you, Parkinson! There's no way that I'm going out with you!" said Malfoy in a tight voice. He apparently controlled himself very much.

"But Dracy," said Pansy in her sweetest voice, "it is all set up! We will get engaged, and then, right after school, we will marry, start a family and live together."

Hermione had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle the giggles. Harry was occupied with watching Malfoy's disgusted face. He would enjoy that conversation very much.

Pansy reached for Malfoy's arm, but he twisted out of her grasp, finally losing his patience.

"Look, Pansy," he spat, "I am not, and will never be, your boyfriend, fiancé or husband. Is that understood? I don't like you! You are the most obnoxious girl I've ever seen. Leave me be or I'll set Snape on you!"

"Nonsense, Draco," said Pansy in a reasonable voice. "Of course you want to be with me. I'll ask your father the next time I'll see him. He knows what's best for you." The implied "namely me" hung heavily in the dusty library air.

Harry was quite scared, and Hermione ogled the pair disbelievingly. Her giggles had long died down; now her mouth hung slightly open, and Harry could almost see how the juicy little secret of their nemesis made her brain work.

"We'll see," sneered Draco, again ripping his hand from her grasp. "And now quit touching me! It's annoying!"

Harry doubted very much that Lucius Malfoy would give his heir to a person like Pansy, and although he disliked the blonde with every fibre of his body he couldn't help but feel sympathy.

Pansy pouted, but not for long. She batted her eyelashes at him. "You know, Dracy, our Lord will give me a big reward when I join his circle." She let her voice drop several notches in an obvious attempt to sound seductive. "He said I could make a wish …"

Malfoy shuddered in disgust and looked at the door of the library, inching slowly toward it.

"And I will wish for you, darling. Oh, we will be so happy together! Just imagine what our kids would look like. You'd work for our Lord and I would be at home, looking after the babies and waiting for my gorgeous husband to come home …" She twirled like a ballerina in the pale moonlight that filtered through a dusty window, and her curly blond hair flew around her shoulders like a halo.

Muttering something undoubtedly rude under his breath Malfoy inched even more towards the exit. Harry felt really sorry for him – that Parkinson girl was obviously obsessed with him, and he knew all too well that this was nothing to make fun of.

Pansy stopped dancing around and looked at Malfoy who almost had made his way out.

"You want to go already?" she asked in a flirtatious voice. "I thought we could snog a bit … wouldn't that be romantic? Only us, in the depth of the night with moonlight flowing in … perfect for our first kiss." She sighed dreamily.

"No!" Malfoy half-screamed. "Stay the hell away from me you crazy bitch!" He turned on his heel and stormed out, not caring if someone caught him.

Pansy just tutted, smiled softly and went after him.

Harry and Hermione waited for ten minutes until they were absolutely sure that Pansy and Malfoy were out of their way. Together they made their way out of the library. Their steps sounded lightly on the cold stone floor.

"That was certainly a revelation," muttered Hermione softly in Harry's ear when they passed the painting from Wiegand the Wondrous. "She actually scared me."

"And I feel actually sorry for that git," replied Harry, smiling lightly. He imagined what would have happened if Ron had eavesdropped that particular conversation. Harry was sure he would have laughed himself into a stupor.

Hermione snorted. "They haven't even kissed yet! Malfoy must have one hell of a will if he's resisted her whining for so long."

"It's not hard to resist that face," Harry deadpanned. He checked his faithful map and discovered that Mrs Norris was coming up to their corridor.

Hurrying as much as they dared they made their way through the castle, dodging Peeves, Filch and Snape on their way. With some amusement Harry noticed that Hermione would have liked to watch Snape a bit longer on his prowl – she had never seen him at night on a patrol, after all, but the books were more important at the moment. Besides, Harry had enough of the man for tonight.

Despite the triumph of having found something reliable about Occlumency Harry was too tired to start reading right now. He wanted to sleep and keep the nightmares out of his dreams. If he only knew how to set traps for Voldemort, traps like Snape used them … it would guarantee him some hours of restful sleep. His scar prickled as if agreeing, and he sighed deeply.

"I'm going to bed, 'Mione," he announced. "G'night."

"Sleep well, Harry," she said quietly, a frown marring her face.

-----------

The Saturday and its DA meeting floated by. Half of the castle was in merry pre-Christmas mood already, and the DA itself was not any better. Harry once more trained with his friends the shielding charms Hermione had taught them one week before. Cho was there, to Harry's great surprise, but she wasn't looking at him whenever it was avoidable. But she did remarkably well, and Hermione guessed that she was putting all her frustration to good use, finally.

He also announced that he would think about some strategy combats for the next term. The DA members knew of his adventure in the Ministry of Magic, and he thought that a bit practical combat would only help strengthening their defence abilities. Most of them were delighted about a bit realistic strategy in their training, but Michael Corner (who was obviously upset that Harry had managed to upset Cho again) argued that they had no place to go to, and where would they get living targets, anyway?

Harry didn't pay attention to his ramblings. He had it all ready in his mind, all that was left was to look up how it would work best.

That night Sirius called, and Harry was delighted to see the face of his beloved godfather. Being together with Remus most of the time certainly had helped to build up his physique again, and his face too had filled out nicely. He looked actually younger than his years, with his hair shining and his eyes twinkling. And the best was still coming.

"Harry!" Sirius practically panted, bouncing up and down in excitement. "You won't believe it, but Dumbledore allowed for you to come to Grimmauld Place this Christmas!" He bounced even more. "What do you say? You are coming, right?"

Harry froze for a second, trying to work out what his beloved godfather had just said, but then laughed and kissed the mirror happily. "Of course I'm coming! And don't you dare being as morose as last Christmas. If you are I'll personally shave Padfoot bald."

He could hear Remus say, "Ouch!" and grinned even broader.

"I want to take you shopping when you're here," said Sirius cheerfully. "I promised you I would take you out, and I will."

Harry's head was swimming with excitement and happiness, and not even the memory of the ugly, old house could lessen his joy. He called for Ron and pulled him on his bed, whispering to him the incredible news.

"Wow!" said Ron excitedly. "When you're in Grimmauld Place maybe we can have Christmas dinner together! I'll ask mom first thing tomorrow. That's so cool!"

"I hope you've killed Kreacher for his idiocy," joked Harry.

"Don't worry about him," said Sirius. "The Malfoys relieved us of that little problem. They're not very grateful for certain services, it seems. Anyway, I got a new elf, and she's a sweet heart. And her elf magic really has helped to fix the place. Boy, will you look surprised when you're here!" He started bouncing again, and Harry wanted to hug him this instant.

"Is the portrait of the old hag gone?" Harry asked, and Ron scrunched up his face in disgust.

"Half of it," said Sirius brightly. "Moony decided to tear it a bit at the last full moon. Shame that he didn't get it down completely. Her face is still intact, I'm afraid."

"Hey, I'm not a House Elf," said Remus indignantly. He slung his arms around Sirius' shoulders and smiled at Ron and Harry. "Harry, I'm so glad you can spend Christmas with us. But keep it quiet, okay? We decided not to let you travel with the Hogwarts Express. But Dumbledore will tell you more later on."

"Alright," agreed Harry. Then he, too, started bouncing on the bed, grinning like mad at his two godfathers. "I love you guys so much!" he exclaimed giddily.

Ron jumped him and ruffled his hair roughly. "It's about time that you get to celebrate a true Christmas," he said heartily.

"Just remember to keep it as quiet as possible," warned Sirius. "I think you shouldn't even tell the DA, but that's up to you, of course."

"Yeah," said Harry, nodding.

Then Neville and Seamus entered the dormitory, and Harry and Ron said goodnight regretfully. Neville might have accepted Sirius as one of the good guys, but he wasn't willing to take any chances. When he thought about the pain of the last year he felt his resolve to protect his loved ones twice as much as usual.

Ron looked at him as he hid the mirror under his mattress. Harry fiddled a bit with his bed sheets but decided to ask bluntly.

"Ron, do you think Voldemort would notice that I am happy?" he said slowly.

Shuddering Ron thought about it. "I guess. I mean, he was able to look into your head before, wasn't he?"

"Mmh." Harry racked his brain for something … He didn't really know why he was thinking so hard, but he was, and as a result Ron had to punch him hard into the shoulder to get his attention.

"You think he will find out that you're going away at Christmas?" he whispered anxiously. "Blimey, that would be bad!"

Harry smiled crookedly. He had learned one thing with Snape if nothing else: If you felt a strong emotion, it was very easy for the intruder to find the memory that caused that emotion, and he couldn't let that happen. Not in a million years.

"A trap," he muttered, staring at his blanket. Then he looked up, directly into Ron's eyes. "Snape uses traps to stop me when I'm in his mind. But I can't do that, yet."

"Maybe you should just try to relax and think of something sad," Ron proposed hopefully. "If you're not feeling happy anymore he has a lesser chance to find out."

"A Pensieve would be better right now," joked Harry faintly. "But well … I guess that would work." He took a long look at the Occlumency book on his nightstand. "Or I should just give it a go and start reading."

"It's the weekend, mate," said Ron, shrugging. "Do what you want, but I'm going to bed. Night." And with that he slid off Harry's bed and climbed into his own.

Harry sighed, grabbed the book and opened it. He was not fully convinced that a book could replace a teacher, but Snape was not a very good teacher, anyway. He fumbled for his wand and cast a silent _Lumos_ charm. He could hear the faint rustling of bed hangings and the last whispers of his dorm mates.

Despite his doubts reading that book was actually very calming. He stuck his wand into the head board, like a reading lamp, and scanned the index. He decided that he had time enough and should start at the beginning and not somewhere in the middle. Besides, the trap instructions were placed quite at the end of the book, which meant that it was advanced Occlumency.

Nibbling on his lower lip he started reading the first chapter.

"Why use Occlumency," read Harry softly. "The most common reason for witches and wizards to learn Occlumency is to prevent another ill meaning wizard or witch from spying in their minds. Occlumency is the art of shielding one's mind from all intrusions."

Intrigued Harry was carried away by the gentle wording of the text and the objective explanations of things. He read two chapters before he was too tired to recognise the letters properly. The first thing that he had learned, however, was how to clear his mind properly and what was the most effective technique for most wizards and witches to achieve this.

He put his glasses on the nightstand, marked the page, put the book into his trunk and then quickly spelled his teeth clean. He liked it better to brush them himself, but for tonight he was too tired to stand up again and wander to the bathroom. He managed exactly forty seconds of mind clearing, and then he nodded off and was soon sleeping deeply.

----------

The Sunday was very quiet. The castle seemed to snore in light sleep, dreaming of winter and Christmas, hot chocolate and cookies. Clothed in a warm robe and a long cloak Harry walked through the numerous corridors and hallways of Hogwarts, every now and then gazing out of the window and admiring the slowly falling snow.

He was actually very glad to be alone. Hermione had asked if she should come with him, but he had seen her books and just shaken his head. Ron used the time to hang out with Dean and Seamus, all the while berating Ginny about her skimpy skirt. It seemed he still wasn't over the fact that his baby sister might have an active sex life – unlike himself.

Smiling, Harry slowed down in the second floor corridor, where the Charms classrooms were placed. Huge windows allowed a phenomenal view at the Quidditch pitch. He leaned against the window sill and just watched as it was slowly covered in snow. By tomorrow it would be covered with a pristine, white, solid sheet.

When it was time for tea in the Great Hall Harry slowly made his way down. With amused curiosity he watched Professor Flitwick who was currently levitating a sprig of mistletoe upwards, obviously planning to fix it onto the arc of the door frame.

"Sprig of mistletoe?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Ah, Mr Potter," squeaked Flitwick. "This is no normal sprig of mistletoe, I can assure you! It's charmed to ensure that the proper kiss follows; provided the participiants are not _too_ averse to the idea."

"Well then, let's hope the students will watch out for these things," said Harry. "I don't want to imagine the humiliation when two boys have to kiss, or two girls, or enemies …" He winked.

Flitwick laughed, squeaking like a mouse, and Harry left him to his task.

The Great Hall was buzzing with activity, and Harry wondered why. Usually the students didn't bother very much to come down for tea at Sundays, but obviously they all had rediscovered their sweet tooth today. The tables were laden with cakes, pastries, cookies, and mugs of hot, steaming chocolate. Ron and Hermione already sat there, obviously waiting for him.

"Mate, look at this wonderland," said Ron dreamily, pointing at the table.

Hermione rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Yes Ron, and if you would use a _tenth_ of your enthusiasm for food for school, you'd have no worries in passing your exams with acceptable grades."

"I didn't hear you, 'Mione," said Ron, trying to ignore her talking about school. "Anyway, I simply love Christmas, and it's only two more weeks, and then–"

Harry chuckled and helped himself to some chocolate cake. Hermione stirred her hot chocolate, muttering angrily about the blasted apple-to-tree transfiguration. It was really grating on her nerves, and she still hadn't found out how to do it correctly.

"You know, I just met Flitwick outside, and he was putting charmed sprigs of mistletoe over a door. He said it makes you kiss whoever is standing under it with you," Harry told his friends.

Ron paled and Hermione giggled.

"I didn't know they would do that again," she said, slightly flushed. "The last time Dumbledore allowed that Snuffles and Snape had to kiss. And I heard they insulted each other for six hours until they did it."

"Who told you that?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Professor McGonagall," admitted Hermione, "And it really wasn't that funny, but since that day those things were banished." She looked over at the Slytherin table. "Just imagine what you would do if you were trapped with Malfoy."

"Which one?" Ron and Harry asked in unison. Lucius Malfoy had been striding in just that second and claimed a seat next to his son.

Hermione froze. "That's a trick question, isn't it?"

The three of them smiled, grimacing a bit, but at least she led the topic slide.

Unfortunately, Parvati and Lavender and some younger girls at the table, didn't intent to.

"Look, Lav," cooed Parvati, "he's really looking good today! Did you notice his hair? Awww, like _silk_!"

"I like his eyes," sighed Lavender.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Just because he's looking halfway decent …"

But Harry watched Lucius Malfoy closely and tried to see what Lavender and Parvati saw. Sure, Mr Malfoy was tall and had broad shoulders and all, and his hair really looked nice, but he couldn't see his eyes from that distance, and he wasn't sure he wanted to, exactly.

One of Ginny's friends mooned over him loudly, and no little disturbed Harry and Ron (and the other boys, for that matter) noticed that Malfoy was the main topic at the other tables, as well.

"Well, this is strange," said Hermione, not in the least impressed. "He's quite a head-turner, isn't he?"

"Speak for yourself," muttered Ron and occupied himself with a large slice of caramel pie.

"And now that I'm thinking about it, Malfoy junior is growing to look quite like his father," said Hermione, not caring if Ron was listening or not.

Harry had to admit that Draco Malfoy had grown quite a few inches over the last year and now stood at almost six feet. He still slicked his hair back, but that was the most remarkable difference between him and his father. They had the same grey eyes and the same face, with the exception of twenty-five years or so age difference, of course.

Anyway, those two blondes were drinking tea together and quietly talking amongst themselves. With glee he watched as Pansy wanted to engage into the apparently very private conversation and Mr Malfoy brushed her off like an irksome insect. The girl seemed ready to destroy something or cry, or both. Millicent Bulstrode, who sat next to Pansy, sipped impassively from her mug, and Crabbe and Goyle stuffed themselves with everything in arms reach.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and snickered quietly. They hadn't forgotten the incident in the library and didn't plan to do so anytime soon.

Then Harry watched Blaise for a bit, but the boy was very obviously thinking for himself, from time to time glancing over at the Gryffindor table and seeking out a certain sandy haired Irishman. Yesterday Blaise had started his offensive, and Harry hoped that things would progress from there.

After the very satisfying tea the Gryffindors walked back to their common room. Unfortunately a crowd hindered their way, and Harry recognised the arc where Flitwick had hung up the sprig of mistletoe. Apparently two students were trapped under it and refused to kiss.

Harry made his way through the crowd – and grinned. Zacharias Smith and Michael Corner stood under the arc and glared at each other, and then both turned around, spotted Harry and stared at him pleadingly.

"Potter, you can't let us stay here," said Michael, and a hint of desperation was creeping in his voice.

Harry shook his head. "Sorry guys, but I don't know how to get you out of this one. But seeing that you're blocking the hallway I would advise you to just get it over with."

"Over my dead body!" hissed Smith, flushing beet red.

"Out of the way, wonder boy," said a cold voice maliciously. "Let me handle this." Draco Malfoy pushed some second year Hufflepuffs aside and crossed his arms.

His father stood right behind him, towering over his son, and looming over Harry who stood next to him. A small smirk danced around his lips, and the cold eyes were filled with something akin to mirth. Malicious mirth, most likely.

"Okay, let's take ten points from Hufflepuff for blocking the hallway," sneered Draco. "And ten points from Ravenclaw for refusing to partake in a tradition of the school." He turned to Harry and scoffed. "Really Potter, you are still not capable of bringing order into this school. Shame on you."

Harry looked at him coolly. "Well, I, unlike you, try to solve problems without docking points. Which only serves your own plans, I might add. You arrogant git," he added for good measure.

"Is that so," said Draco equally coolly. "Still, I want those apes to kiss so we can all go back to our common rooms. And if they don't hurry I won't take ten points, I will take fifty."

Corner and Smith gasped in indignation. They both glared at Malfoy, then at each other, then at Malfoy again, blushed, and finally they pecked each other on the lips, jumping apart as quickly as possible.

At least the compulsion was broken, and the crowd started to thin out; students were laughing but at the same time watching out very carefully when to step through the arc. Harry decided that Corner and Smith couldn't be so averse to kissing each other. That, or Flitwick had underestimated the power of the charms. In any case he decided to talk to his professor. Surely it wasn't in the school's interest if word got out that students had harassed each other ...

Malfoy and his father strode away, both through the arc at the same time, and they didn't seem the least bit bothered that they had to peck each other on the lips as well. Harry reckoned that Lucius Malfoy must like his son more than he had let on so far.

"That was gross," Ron said when they all were through the arc without further mishaps.

Hermione just huffed. "Honestly Ron, you of all people, as a pureblood wizard, should know that the Malfoys have French ancestors and therefore practise some of their traditions. And kissing is part of it. Besides, it's really not that unusual for family members to kiss." She rolled her eyes and barked the password at the Fat Lady.

Harry only thought that it had looked … well, strange to see Lucius Malfoy show any emotion or an action of emotions. How he had bowed down to meet his son, his hair sliding gracefully over his shoulder …

He shook his head, becoming angry with himself. This was not the right moment to start mooning over the enemy. Their situation was twisted enough without that sort of trouble, and he wouldn't give Voldemort even more ammunition against him than he already had.

This evening was spent with homework, and later Harry buried himself again in his Occlumency book, dying to know what he could and should do to block Voldemort out. Sometimes in the last days he had been feeling some vague echoes of the Dark Lords thoughts, and he generally could sense that he was not pleased with the progress Harry was making at Occlumency.

Harry only hoped Voldemort hadn't noticed that he was learning Legilimency as well.

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**End of chapter 3**


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer**_: _Please go and see part one.  
_

_**Warnings**_: _I read a bit about Wicca and their way of life and such. I'm no expert and won't claim to be one, ever. If there are Wiccans out there, please don't be affronted that I just have used your holidays and deities and the like to suit my story._

_**Thanks**_: _As always I thank the wonderful Licelli who never tires telling me how to use the Saxon Genetive ;-) Thanks to my readers, too, I love all of your reviews and I hope that you'll keep telling me how you find the story :-)_

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**Chapter 4**

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The sprigs of mistletoe hung by Professor Flitwick were wreaking havoc in the school over the next week. Flitwick had hung them at the most unlikely places, and more than once students who really didn't like each other were trapped until they kissed. Well, no one _truly_ minded the kissing; it was, after all, an opportunity to get the long-fancied crush into kissing range, but Harry wasn't too happy with it. On Monday he was trapped with Cho and had to get out of there without upsetting her even more. But realising that she would take it as an insult either way he just kissed her and walked off as quickly as possible.

Other kisses he enjoyed more. Ginny had to kiss him, and, to his delight, Blaise too, who made quite a spectacle out of it. However, his fans stalked him, and only his Prefect position saved him from more serious traumas. Hermione helped him as much as possible, docking points for those who blatantly tried to get together with Harry under a sprig of mistletoe.

Wednesday, right after Advanced Potions, Blaise ran into Seamus under a sprig of mistletoe and Harry had just stood there, arms crossed and smirking firmly. The Slytherin had practically smothered Harry's dorm mate with sloppy kisses, and since then they seemed to run into each other under sprigs of mistletoe frequently.

On Friday, Harry managed a breakthrough in Transfiguration. He even did it before Hermione, and that truly was a first in that subject. He tapped his wand against his apple, said the words and a cute little tree was sprouting out of the red fruit. Roots were growing and grasping at the table, slinging around the edges. Small, very young and new looking leaves were quivering in the chilly air and blossoms developed in front of Harry's eyes.

McGonagall proudly awarded him ten points for the improvement after she checked that it was not a growing spell. Hermione looked enviously at his tiny tree and prodded her own apple morosely.

"I don't like to say it Harry," she said. "But I think that spell is too complex for me."

"Nonsense," replied Harry. "You're just tired. You were up until two again, and don't even try to deny it."

She sighed. "I read a bit further about that Arawn's Kingdom ritual-thing, but it will be very difficult to block it without Wicca magic." She watched out for McGonagall, but she was at the other end of the classroom, berating Neville for squashing his apple for the third time. "And I doubt that Luna alone is strong enough to make a counter ritual."

"It is still a possibility that it's a trap," Harry reminded her, prodding his tree again and whispering the words. It grew a bit, now the leaves rustled, and the trunk groaned a bit.

"Another ten points!" said McGonagall loudly, and everybody turned around to look at Harry's grown tree. It was now as tall as he was, around five feet nine inches.

"Anyway," whispered Harry, even more quietly after his friends had turned away, "I'm not learning Legilimency for nothing. I want to look for myself if Voldemort has set up a trap. And if it is indeed one, I'll find out what he has planned instead."

Hermione looked doubtful, absently hitting her apple with the tip of her wand. "Do you think you could do that without him noticing?"

"I don't know. But I'm not ready yet, anyway," muttered Harry. He touched his tree a third time and said softly: "_Desarrolar Arbola_."

A mighty groan reverberated through the classroom, and a rustling and rushing made the others turn around a third time. Mouths fell open and eyes became wide.

Harry stared up into the crown of his tree in wonderment.

"Oh dear," he said. "It is even carrying new apples …"

He left Transfigurations with thirty points for Gryffindor and a feeling of pride in his chest. The Gryffindors were on their way to Care of Magical Creatures, and the boys especially were avoiding being trapped under one of the sprigs of mistletoe. The Slytherins pushed past them and left the castle in a hurry. Harry noticed that Malfoy avoided Pansy at all costs. Enraged, the girl docked ten points from a passing Ravenclaw, accusing him of snogging in the hallways. The fact that he was standing under the aforementioned sprig of mistletoe and was forced to kiss Goyle made no impression on her at all.

Heads shaking, the group of Gryffindors made it out safely. The lawn was covered with a thin layer of snow, and they could see which way the Slytherins had taken.

"I can't believe the week is over already," said Dean bemusedly. "Just one more week and we can go home." He looked at Ron oddly. "I would like to visit my girlfriend, but I don't know if her overprotective brother will let me."

Ron snorted angrily. "I thought you were a friend!" he said fiercely. "Instead you deflower my baby sister the first chance you get! Traitor!"

"Maybe she wants to be deflowered," Seamus pointed out helpfully.

Neville flushed bright red. A gust of wind reminded Harry painfully that he still hadn't found his scarf, and that, maybe, he should get a new one - despite his not wanting to.

"She's fifteen for Merlin's sake!" hollered Ron, looking angry enough to punch Dean into a pulp. "Too young for your greedy, filthy–"

"Oh Ron, grow up already," chided Hermione. Behind her, Parvati and Lavender giggled. "Ginny knows exactly what she wants, don't worry. And she's perfectly capable of castrating any boy who wants more than she wants to give."

Dean coughed ominously.

Harry patted Ron's back and grinned. "There, there. We are all growing up now, aren't we?"

"I'll-kill-him," grunted Ron, straining against Harry's grip.

Then they reached Hagrid's hut, and Ron restrained his anger at the familiar sight of a sneering Malfoy and his cronies.

Hagrid collected their homework first and then let them work with some cute, silvery snow bunnies. The only differences between them and real bunnies were their sharp talons and the eerie red eyes.

"These are Frost Hobblers," explained Hagrid, stroking one fondly. "They really live in the north of Scotland, Norway an' so on, but I was able ter track a small group down. Now, these creatures are quite patient an' like it ter be petted, but keep an eye on yer hands anyway, please ..."

Harry, Ron and Hermione took a Frost Hobbler and petted it softly. It gave a friendly sniff to their fingers and munched on some snow. Behind them Neville screeched and ran in circles because his Hobbler had bitten him in the index finger and refused to let go. It looked rather painful actually and Seamus tried to hex the offending creature off of him.

"I don't know how yer always get yerself in trouble," they could hear Hagrid mumble.

Ron snickered. Harry watched Blaise and Millicent with their Hobbler, then Malfoy and Pansy, who was still after Malfoy. The blonde petted his animal absentmindedly while Pansy chattered on and on, most likely about the upcoming wedding. Crunching sounds told him that Hagrid was taking Neville to the hospital wing.

"Do you think Malfoy senior will visit again this weekend?" muttered Hermione, leaning a bit forward.

"He was here every advent weekend before," said Ron, shrugging. "But last week Harry couldn't squeeze anything out of him."

"Bad luck." Harry shrugged. "And it isn't as if it has been truly valuable what he said, has it?"

Hermione contemplated that. "It was nothing _concrete_," she said finally. "But we already know that he gave us hints before, and we should start watching out for them."

"Did you notice that whenever we're actively looking out for something there are obstacles?" grunted Ron, obviously finding the whole game boring.

Harry had to admit that Ron had a point. The obstacles always came when they had at least a respectable part of the puzzle solved. It was unnerving, really.

"It's not as if I would _like_ to meet him," he said slowly. "I mean, he's a Death Eater and he hates us. Last summer, after my hearing, I thought someone had poured a bucket of ice water over my head …"

"Understandable," said Hermione softly. "After all you saw him at You-Know-Who's rebirth, and then the disaster at the Ministry of Magic …"

"But it's getting better," Harry reassured them. "As long as we're in Hogwarts he can't possibly do something stupid, can he?"

Their Frost Hobbler leaped a bit forward, directly into Hermione's arms. Purring like an odd cat, it snuggled into her cloak and nuzzled her hands, begging to be cuddled.

"I don't know," said Ron doubtfully. "There were others before." He squared his shoulders and stood up, stretching his long limbs a bit.

Hermione cooed at her Hobbler and petted it on the back and flanks. "Do you have plans for the DA meeting on Sunday?" she asked curiously. "I mean, are we learning something new?"

"I wanted to talk with you all about progress concerning the ritual," whispered Harry quietly. "Luna told me that you girls found a matching counter ritual and some stuff to do around that."

"Okay," she replied. "But I read the instructions of the counter magic, and one Wiccan alone really is not enough." She leaned even closer, pretending to offer Harry a turn in petting their Frost Hobbler. "But what about asking Snuffles and Moony during the break? Maybe they know some people who are willing to help, and if not, no harm is done."

"That's brilliant, 'Mione," muttered Harry. Ron crouched down next to him again, sighing softly in relief. "I'll do it as soon as possible."

The two hours passed smoothly. For once the Slytherins behaved, and when Hagrid and Neville came back from the infirmary there were neither blood nor corpses ruining the virginal snow.

After that Harry and Hermione had their last hour of Advanced Potions for the week. Harry wasn't exactly looking forward to it but seeing that his mind was so full with other things he wasn't as apprehensive as he used to be. Hermione, on the other hand, looked very alert, as if she was planning something. Harry was almost sure she was plotting again, searching for opportunities to annoy the hell out of Snape without him being able to take many points.

Snape ushered them into their classroom and waited impatiently for them to take their seats.

"Today," he growled, "We will not brew the Tooth White potion. The headmaster has us brewing …," he stalled a bit, twisting his mouth into a sneer, "Brewing the Christmas Cheer potion instead."

Hannah's and Ernie's faces lit up, but Malfoy turned around to Blaise and grimaced. Hermione just sighed, Luna stared detachedly ahead and Terry fidgeted slightly.

Snape waved his wand shortly, almost jerkily, and instructions appeared on the blackboard.

"Well!" he snapped venomously, "Get to work! I don't have time to waste on you imbeciles!"

"I'll go collect the ingredients," said Blaise quietly. "There's no need to risk your precious head today, hero."

Harry just snorted and met Snape's glare defiantly. Hermione tiptoed around the others who had been a trifle quicker than she but then just gave it up and waited until they were done.

"What are you waiting for, Miss Granger?" Snape asked menacingly, instantly picking up on her cautious behaviour. "Surely you plan to partake in today's lesson?"

"Indeed, Professor," said Hermione a tad bit coldly. "But _you_ surely don't expect me to squeeze in and probably knock something over."

Snape's lips thinned dramatically, but he didn't say anything else. Harry silently congratulated Hermione for the first, successful strike at her victim. When Blaise came back and dumped his heap of ingredients onto the table, Harry started chopping, scraping and slicing. He was better at preparing and Blaise had a better sense for putting these items together, so they made quite a good team, despite their lagging position behind in this advanced class.

The Christmas Cheer potion's list of ingredients sounded suspiciously like some kind of drink or punch, just without the obvious alcohol. But Harry suspected that the magic more than made up for that.

Brewing the potion was no problem at all. Soon the whole classroom smelled of cloves and cinnamon. Blaise whispered that he felt reminded of gingerbread. Snape grimly told them what this potion was supposed to do and ordered them to take a spoonful each.

Blaise was right, Harry mused as he sipped a spoonful of their potion. It tasted like molten gingerbread with an underlying taste of mulled wine. Purely of Christmas.

"You should now feel a slight tingle," said Snape darkly. "This potions works like a Cheering Charm, only that it is, obviously, aiming for the Christmas spirit." He glared at Terry who had started to hum Christmas carols during his explanation. "The potion is active for at least six hours. Some might be stronger," he glanced to Malfoy, Luna, Terry and Hermione, "And others weaker," he glared at the Hufflepuff Prefects and Harry and Blaise.

"Git," muttered Blaise, "Our potion is perfect this time!"

Snape stalked back behind his desk. "Now fill a sample in your vials and then get out!"

The students hurried to bottle their samples and clean up their work tables. Once they were out of the classroom Blaise and Harry sighed in relief.

"I wonder if he's noticed that he hasn't given us homework this time," mused Blaise.

"And I prefer not to think about it," replied Harry. "I will just enjoy our luck."

With dread he thought about his Occlumency lesson scheduled for tonight. The potion wouldn't work that long to cheer him up. He squared his shoulders, shook the clammy feeling off and decided to read a bit further in his Occlumency book. The chapter he was reading now was very interesting, and he believed that its content could really advance him further.

"Do you have the same topic in Binns' latest essay?" Blaise interrupted his thoughts. Together they started walking into the Great Hall for lunch.

"If you mean the Goblin wars in Greece – yes, I have. Honestly, sometimes I think it couldn't get any more boring, and then he's surprising us with yet _another_ Goblin war." Harry rolled his eyes. "Did they ever do anything else besides fighting and making money?"

"No," said Blaise. "Apparently not. I would have liked to learn more about the Veelas. At least they're nice to look at. The book has some gorgeous pictures …"

"I thought you liked boys?" queried Harry with a smile.

"Yup, but real beauty is something completely different," said Blaise, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.

"By the way, what's up with you and Seamus?" Harry asked curiously.

Blaise smirked. "It seems you were right. Right now we're seeing each other under the sprigs of mistletoe, but I hope I can take it one step further soon."

"Tomorrow is our last Hogsmeade weekend," Harry pointed out. "You could ask him out."

Blaise snorted. "And ruin my reputation? Sometimes you're too naïve for your own good, hero. In the DA it might be okay, but real life is unfortunately a bit more complicated."

"Oh, right," muttered Harry. "But you could meet him _in_ Hogsmeade. Just don't take him to Madam Puddifoot's. It's creepy there."

"I guess I could," said Blaise, frowning slightly. "Do you think he would say yes if I asked him?"

Harry nodded. "Positive. But you'll have to do it alone, the DA takes place on Sunday this time … for obvious reasons."

"I'm not a Slytherin for nothing," replied Blaise smugly. "Sneakiness is a prized trait in our house."

"I bet," muttered Harry, hiding his smirk behind his hand.

They had to kiss briefly because they had forgotten to watch out for sprigs of mistletoes on their way, but other than that the way was uneventful. They parted at a crossing and walked to the Great Hall by separate routes. Not that it fooled many people – they sat together in Advanced Potions, after all, and were still alive. But they did it for appearance's sake nonetheless.

When Harry sat down at the Gryffindor table eerie silence greeted him. Ron was still angry at Dean, and he had that one, murderous look on his face that indicated that he would like to throw his whole plate, filled with delicious food, at Dean's head rather than eat it. And _that_ told Dean just how angry Ron really was. Ginny did the only thing she could to stay out of it: she associated with neither Ron nor Dean.

Harry was sorry that two of his best friends were angry with each other and both within their own right, too, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe the strain would disappear soon.

Hermione was munching her lasagna while reading her latest discovery, a book about ancient protection spells. Harry knew enough about the book to understand what she was poring over – it contained ways to protect locations with strong wards and spells. Not that they could actually build such wards or cast these spells; one had to be a strong, wizard with either a gift for these things or a lengthy training to do so, but seeing that Voldemort's threat came nearer with each passing day Hermione had started to look up on how Hogwarts was protected.

Harry sighed. It would be helpful if Dumbledore would grant them a glimpse into Hogwarts' protection – Luna would know where to look for strong and weak points. But of course he understood that it was not his place to know about Hogwarts' defences. Voldemort was still linked with him and he couldn't be allowed to find this kind of information through Harry's mind.

Staring morosely at his lasagna, Harry thought about his upcoming Occlumency lesson. More and more, it was becoming a battle of who was able to speak the dreaded spell first, andnot ofhow to defend against intruders. And Snape in his foul mood was nothing to look forward to.

Finally he pushed his plate away and ate his lemon cake instead. The tension at the table was unbearable at best, and he felt no desire to be involved in a food fight. Being Prefect had its disadvantages, such as punishing his friends if they were arguing too loudly in the hallways and the like. But Ron had had a much bigger problem with it than Harry did. Being the leader of the DA, Harry had learned to ignore single members in order to teach the group properly, and this was nothing else.

Hermione glanced at him when he stood up and left the Great Hall early. Fortunately lunch was still in full progress. That meant an assault-free walk for Harry. His way to Gryffindor Tower was uneventful, only the Bloody Baron passed him by and nodded his head shortly in acknowledgement.

"Lumides," said Harry to the Fat Lady.

The Fat Lady giggled. She held a goblet in her fat hands. Apparently she had gotten hold of some Christmas punch. Harry scowled at her when she didn't open the entrance for him. Only when her friend Violet appeared in her portrait and poked her out of her alcohol-induced giggling fit was he able to pass her.

Finally inside of the common room he hurried up the stairs to his dorm. Harry placed his book bag on his trunk and peeled his robe off. He stood there for a minute in his school uniform. Every winter he thought that it shouldn't matter if they wore their school clothes under the robes or Muggle clothes, but rules were rules, as it seemed, even if Muggle clothes were much warmer than the school uniform.

Scowling, he changed into his favourite jeans and black roll pullover. It was the same every afternoon, really.

He took his Occlumency book from the trunk, propped it against his pillow and flopped down onto the bed on his stomach. The reading took him in quickly, and he didn't notice as Neville and Seamus entered the dorm, took their things for Potions and left again.

At five o'clock Dobby popped up next to his bed, carrying a tray.

Startled Harry jumped up, and then looked at the elf. "Oh, Dobby," he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Dobby brings Harry Potter hot chocolate and cookies!" exclaimed Dobby. "Hermione Granger told Dobby to bring Harry Potter something to eat."

"Erm, did she try to free you again?" Harry asked carefully.

"Oh no, Harry Potter," Dobby said and started to set up the dishes for Harry. "She says she's got other things to do at the moment." He inched closer, looking to his left and right. "We House Elves are very glad about that, Harry Potter," Dobby squeaked.

"She just wants to see you happy," said Harry apologetically.

"We are happy the way it is," Dobby said with conviction. "I'm glad Master Malfoy is no longer my master, but Master Dumbledore is very kind."

Harry nodded and took a cookie. He could imagine why Dobby was happy to be out of Malfoy's service. Imagining that the blond git had killed Kreacher – although the little wretch had deserved it – sent thrills through Harry's body.

He talked to the elf for a few minutes but then Dobby excused himself to return to the kitchen to help prepare dinner and vanished and Harry was glad to be alone with his book again. The chapter in itself was easy enough to understand. The difficulty was only in his realisation of its lessons. Harry pursed his lips. Snape must really hate him; he had never told him anything about the techniques that were required to learn Occlumency properly.

Around seven o'clock he hoisted himself from his comfy bed and put his cloak over his Muggle clothes. He was far too lazy to change back into his school attire.

On his way to the Great Hall he met Ginny. She ranted about Ron the whole time. Ofhow he could make her so miserable just before Christmas, and that being at home with him would be hell, because her mom would screech at him the whole time for annoying her. She also would forbid Ginny to see Dean and her father would just stand there, not knowing how to calm his wife, and so on.

As amusing as it might have been, Harry found it rather tiresome right now. He was glad when they reached the Great Hall. He searched a place next to Hermione. She had no book with her this time, but appeared to be in a hurry. Maybe she would spend yet another night in the Room of Requirement, helping Luna to find the best counter ritual for Voldemort's attack.

He felt truly guilty for letting her work so hard. She might be a workaholic by nature, he mused, but a bit of free time for her own leisure would be nice for a change. Well, maybe his Christmas present for her would express the gratitude he felt.

As usual for every Friday evening, he refrained from indulging in the feast. Instead he ate some bread and fruit and washed it down with a few cups of tea. Thinking about Occlumency and Snape made him feel queasy, an experience he didn't enjoy very much. He disliked the atmosphere of hate, mistrust and ill intentions far more than the actual fact that he was forced to spend time with Snape.

Sometimes Harry wondered if the man really hated him because of his old grudge against his father, or if he did it because Voldemort had ordered him to, in order to weaken his self esteem and with it his power.

Well, he would show Snape tonight that he was not a helpless kid anymore.

At a quarter to eight he left the Great Hall. Snape hadn't been there, again. He seemed to eat a lot in his rooms without company lately. Harry felt a twinge of guilt. Snape was hurting him, but he was obviously clawing back just as strongly. It was painfully easy to ignore the fact that Snape was still a man behind his hateful, hurtful words and deeds. Harry knew that he was being unfair, wishing evil things on Snape, but Snape's treatment of him let him see redder than Malfoy's treatment ever had.

His feet carried him down the dungeons. He didn't even need to think anymore to find his way to Snape's office, the office he had trashed so often these last weeks, particularly in their last few battles of will and magic. Some shelves that had been filled with books couldn't be saved – Harry had efficiently set them on fire; a magical one at that.

Snape called him in unceremoniously when he knocked. Harry wanted to strike immediately, but Snape's unarmed figure stopped him.

"Sit down, Potter," said Snape quietly. "I think a little talk is in order."

"Have you discovered the benefit of actually teaching the subject, _Sir_?" snarled Harry disrespectfully.

"No." Snape's left corner of his mouth twitched slightly. "I want to know what you saw that night …"

Harry knew at once what Snape wanted to know, but he would be damned if he let that greasy bastard off the hook so easily.

"What night, Sir?"

"Halloween's night, Potter," replied Snape a tad harshly.

"Oh, _that_ night. But I can't remember anymore, Sir," said Harry casually, watching his fingernails with lazy interest.

"Don't play games with me, Potter," snarled Snape, striding to his chair and sitting down elegantly. He steepled his fingers together on the desktop. "You remember very well, I think. Not even _your_ brain is so rotten as to forget what happened that night."

"Nope, I don't remember, Sir," said Harry again, now looking coolly at Snape's face. "But maybe you should refresh my memory."

Snape angrily took a deep breath and leaned forward dramatically. His black eyes glittered with barely hidden contempt.

"Very well, Mr Potter. The Dark Lord told the Inner Circle about a great attack to take place at the Summer Solstice." He watched Harry's expression carefully. "He mentioned a ritual with the name _Arawn's Kingdom_. It shall take the wards of Hogwarts down in a violent attack."

"Actually it will create a vortex of death as Arawn, the God of the dead, claims land for his kingdom," said Harry icily, looking Snape now straight in the eyes. "With magic like that the shields of Hogwarts will crumble in a second." It was actually quite funny to see Snape literally freeze on the spot.

After a few seconds Snape's shell-shocked, frozen figure started moving again. With a jerky movement he reached for his wand and summoned a pot of tea and two cups. This was by far the most considerate action Harry had seen Snape ever do. Snape poured Harry a cup and pushed it over the desk.

"Veritaserum?" asked Harry, smirking slightly.

"No," was Snape's curt reply. "Not for this."

"What do you really want to know?" Harry asked after a few gulps of tea. "After all, you just needed to ask if I have seen you among the Death Eaters that night."

"Maybe." Snape paused, drinking his tea. His eyes looked strangely absent, as if he was contemplating some event in the future intently. "But that wouldn't have been enough. You know as well as I that the Dark Lord can conjure scenarios at will. He got you with it once."

That was not the answer Harry wanted to hear. But patience was obviously key in this conversation.

"Potter, I noticed that you made some scant improvements in your Occlumency," Snape started quietly.

"And sadly it was none of _your_ doing," said Harry bitingly, ignoring the mean compliment. He took a deep breath to cool off his rapidly rising temper. With a much calmer voice he said: "You wanted to stop playing games. Fine, now stop and ask what you really want to know, _Sir_."

Snape's mouth twitched again, this time in resemblance to a twisted smile. "Very well, Potter. I'm tired of treading around your precious feelings, anyway."

Harry snorted. Since when had Snape ever been 'treading around his precious feelings'?

Snape ignored his scornful snort masterfully. "I'll ask you now: did you feel something strange when you dreamed of that meeting? In any way?"

Harry pursed his lips and pretended to think over the question. He had expected this question; neither Snape nor Dumbledore were stupid. In reality he thought about his options. Should he confess his suspicions to Snape? Or should he do it alone with his DA? But they needed adults to help them.

On the other hand, he didn't want snarky gits like Snape to feel important over something Harry had discovered. His DA and he worked really hard. _He_ would call upon Dumbledore when the time was right. Within seconds he made his decision.

"No, Sir, not really. Besides, it's been almost two months ago … I can't remember dreams well, anyway," he lied smoothly.

Snape's dark eyes bore into his, but he didn't even start to fidget. The seductive magic tried to find its way into his head, but with a new, neat trick out of his Occlumency book he could easily block that tentative intrusion off.

Snape scowled, obviously dissatisfied.

"Well then," he said smoothly. "Wand out, Potter. We'll see how much you've practised."

"Enough," muttered Harry coldly.

When he left both he and Snape had to nurse a few burns on arms and chest. It seemed that Harry had a way with magical fire that even superseded Hermione's talent for them. His wasn't the flickering kind of fire one found in a fireplace. It was fire in hot, blazing gushes that struck you as fast as a lightning bolt and felt icy to the first touch. At least he had missed Snape's hands this time.

But aside from these physical reactions, it was a very good lesson. Harry had read all about _Visualising_ in his book. It was a neat, psychological trick. One only had to think of a glass barrier around oneself and all the weaker, prying Legilimency spells would bounce off.

Of course it was very hard and difficult for Harry to concentrate on his barrier when Snape was practically ripping them down with fascinated glee. Fortunately he concentrated on assaulting his new wards rather than diving into his mind again. And in return Harry was seeing Snape's mechanics for the first time. He had no smooth glass barrier but a net, like a spider's web that seemed soft and weak but was sticky and tricky in reality.

Working with the mind was addicting and Harry found himself thinking that he was inside a glass box when he wandered to the infirmary. Snape, who was walking next to him, had a brooding expression on his face. Neither spoke until they were ushered into the hospital wing by an irate Madam Pomfrey.

"What did you two do now?" she demanded, all the while applying healing salve on their burns.

"For once Potter was doing something right," muttered Snape softly. His silky voice floated through the empty, dimly lit infirmary.

Madam Pomfrey just clucked and patched both of them up.

"The salve needs to stay on your skin for at least two hours. It is burnt rather deeply, so you can do without a shower tonight. Otherwise it could scar." She looked at them both with pointed glares. Then she handed them a jar with more of the salve. "Apply it again in the morning."

Harry wondered if Snape had many scars on his thin, tense body. Surely being a Death Eater and spy had left its marks.

The walk back to their parting point was silent. Snape sent him back to his dorm and stormed off. His cloak billowed behind him impressively and gave him the aura of a vampire that swooped through his lone castle.

Curiously he wondered if the rumours were true and Snape was part vampire.

But then he arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, and he wished nothing more than to stumble into bed and sleep it all over.

The common room was empty. Apparently Hermione was really staying in the Room of Requirement. Harry doubted that she was asleep already. Sighing he dragged himself up the stairs into his dorm.

Dean and Seamus were still awake, and Neville talked with his _mimbulus mimbletonia_. Only Ron had barricaded himself in his bed. The curtains were closed and no sound could be heard. It seemed he had cast a silencing and a privacy charm around it to block the other boys out.

"He's still angry, isn't he?" said Harry by way of greeting.

"Yeah," said Dean. "But I won't budge on this. Look, we all know he wanted you for Ginny, but–"

"I know," said Harry warmly. "You like her, she likes you – peachy." He glanced at Neville, but then simply shrugged. "Besides, I think I like boys, too. There's not much to fear, I guess."

Seamus smiled happily. "Wonderful, then I'm not the only one in here." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "But a certain snake is mine, understood?"

Harry chuckled and hissed at the same time – his burned hand had accidentally touched a poster of his bed.

"Bad burns you have there, mate," said Dean, frowning. "How did that happen?"

"Snape," replied Harry simply. "But he got a few, too. Occlumency goes way out of hand with the both of us. You know, me hating him and him hating me …"

Neville and Seamus nodded wisely.

"Do you think a cushioning charm on the burns will keep the salve fixed?" Harry asked his friends.

Neville nodded. "Yeah. I'm often in St. Mungo's and watch when the nurses change bandages and such … They do that all the time when ointment is applied. I think it's safe."

"Thanks, Neville. God, I'm really tired …" Harry yawned. He grabbed his wand and placed cushioning charms on his arms, on a spot on his chest and on one between his ribs.

Dean and Seamus climbed into their beds, wishing a good night. Neville petted his cactus a last time and went to bed, too. Harry just brushed his teeth quickly, combed his hair, again without much success, and then snuggled under his covers as well.

----------

Saturday morning found the Gryffindor sixth year boys minus Ron in an unusually chipper mood. Harry noticed with satisfaction that the burns were almost completely healed during the night. He hadn't dreamed about Voldemort or other unpleasant things, either.

Therefore he showered, singing with a slightly off-key voice. (It was still cracking from time to time, and Harry wondered just how deep his voice would become because he found it pretty manly already, thank you very much. And as pleasant as Snape's voice was to hear, he'd rather do without it if it helped him not to have anything in common with the greasy git.) Dean and Seamus were playfully baiting him about it, but Neville only chuckled.

"Ron, we're going to the Great Hall now!" said Harry loudly into the dorm. "If you want to come with us, come out now!"

But nothing moved in the bed, and sighing he gave it up. Ron was as stubborn as a mule if he wanted to be.

The Great Hall was filled with excited students. On the last Hogsmeade weekend of the term everybody apparently had to do some last minute Christmas

shopping, and Harry was no exception. Out of habit he glanced over the other three house tables.

"Ah, Harry, I thought I wouldn't see you before noon," exclaimed Hermione.

He settled down next to her, Dean and Seamus took a place to his left.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione asked. "Is he still sulking?"

"Yes," grinned Harry.

"Merlin help us all," she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. "Well, I guess we'll just have to go without him, then. I don't want to waste my time over stupid things like this." She filled Harry's plate with scrambled eggs and toast.

Harry rolled his sleeves up and started to eat.

"Did you get those last night?," said Hermione, pointing discreetly at the fading red welts.

"Yeah. But Snape got some, too. My temper got out of hand." He smiled apologetically. "But I really made progress, 'Mione," he whispered in an even lower voice. "I was able to see Snape's barriers."

"Barriers?" she asked back, puzzled.

Harry nodded and explained to her about Visualising and the other things he was training in now. He even told her what Snape's defence wall looked like.

"Interesting," said Hermione once he had finished. "Do you have a wall up right now?"

"Yeah." Harry flashed her a toothy grin. "I need every second of training I can get. But it is good for other things than just Occlumency," he whispered. "It's working the same way if somebody insults you. It simply slides off. Maybe you should try it too, from time to time."

"Maybe," she agreed.

Harry quickly ate his breakfast and drank some coffee to chase the last remnants of his fatigue away. Hermione was perusing the Daily Prophet in the meantime. Scowling, she pointed some headlinesout from time to time.

"Listen to this: Dolores Umbridge appointed Great Inquisitor … Ministry plans to close Muggle departments … Unspeakables are tested … Minister Fudge decides to intervene in the liberty of press …"

Harry grunted every now and then to show that he was listening to her ranting. He found it rather alarming that Umbridge was back, despite her sacking, and that the Ministry was closing the Muggle departments.

He wondered if Ron knew about it, his dad being employed in the Ministry and all … Maybe one of the reasons he reacted so violently to Ginny and Dean's relationship, which was blossoming into something more than just teenage fumbling, was because he was unhappy about his father's situation.

He finished eating and left the Great Hall together with Hermione. Dean and Seamus had decided to wait a little bit longer. Dean wanted to meet Ginny, and Seamus was looking for a chance to moon over his hopefully soon-to-be boyfriend.

The air was crisp and icy, and snow was trailing down, nestling on hats and cloaks, hair and scarves. Harry had borrowed a scarf from Neville who had two, in case he lost one. It bothered him that his own scarf was still missing. Trelawney hadn't found it in her classroom, which meant that one of the students had taken it with him or her. And it annoyed Harry that they weren't giving it back. Who was twisted enough to put an anti-summoning-charm on it, anyway? It was unnerving.

"What do you think Mr Weasley will do if they really close that department?" Hermione asked sadly. "They're already pressured enough with so many children …"

Harry didn't know either.

"Maybe he'll start a counter attack. Did you read who was behind all that?"

"Oh, yes," said Hermione bitterly. "As I said, it seems that Umbridge has found her way back into the Ministry. Of course, she won't come back to Hogwarts," both shared an evil smile, "but you see what damage she can still cause."

"What's her reasoning now?" Harry asked, agitated. "She wanted to fire Firenze because he was not human. Does she want to end the protection of Muggles because they have no magic?" He clenched his fists in the pockets of his robes.

"It seems like that," said Hermione quietly. "I wish someone would just, I don't know, finish her off, or at least send her somewhere where she's forced to live like a Muggle." She nibbled on her lower lip. "I really hate that damn, stupid, mean toad."

"Let's just hope they wait for the next year to fire Mr Weasley," muttered Harry. "I would hate to see the way Malfoy would turn on Ron again."

"We can always report his behaviour," said Hermione curtly. "I won't lower myself again to the stupid level we did last year. Snape might be blind when it comes to Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall is not, and neither is Dumbledore."

Talking, they entered Hogsmeade. Students stood in front of the windows and admired the offers. They passed Oberon's Opticum, a shop that sold glasses and contact lenses.

"Did you ever think of letting your eyesight be corrected?" Hermione asked, pointing to the shop.

"Yeah," said Harry. "I informed myself_,_ with the help of Snuffles. I need to be seventeen because my magic will be stable enough to accept the changes then."

Hermione nodded. "I know. That's why women and men who want a permanent glamour on their bodies have to be adults, too." She smirked. "I bet Parkinson will get a glamour as soon as she's seventeen. Who wouldn't want to hide that pug face?"

Harry smiled fondly. He remembered Hermione's teeth growing after the accident in Potions, and the way she had jumped at the chance to let her most obvious feature disappear when Madam Pomfrey healed her. But he wasn't reminding her. She had been cute before, and that made it all right – Snape had been really mean to her. Any child would have done something after such hurtful words.

"And? Are you going to do it?"

"Yes." Harry smiled at her. "It is better in battle and besides, I hate these glasses anyway."

Hermione stopped and turned to face him. She took his old glasses off carefully and studied his naked face intently.

"You have wonderful eyes, Harry," she said softly. "Without glasses you'll be one of the hottest boys in Hogwarts. Not that you aren't now, mind you."

She slipped the glasses back on and smiled.

"What are we witnessing here, a romantic love scene?" Malfoy's cold voice cut through the chilly air. "Really, Potter, a _mudblood_? I really thought you'd have better taste than that." He sneered, and Crabbe and Goyle behind him snickered stupidly.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Malfoy," Harry said coolly, "But she's not exactly my type, mudblood or no. I think I generally prefer blondes."

Malfoy's cheeks turned brick red in a matter of milliseconds and he hastily turned and fled down the main road. Students who had witnessed the scene snickered heartily at Malfoy's expense.

"Harry," scolded Hermione, "That wasn't really necessary, was it? That idiot isn't worth it."

Harry just shrugged. "He insulted you and I only said the truth, after all." He slung an arm around her shoulders and grinned. "I'm sorry about that you're-not-my-type comment."

"Oh, it's quite alright," she replied, chuckling softly. "I had a vague feeling about you, anyway."

"Well," said Harry defensively, "After a dating-disaster like that with Cho no one can blame me, can they?"

"They can't," confirmed Hermione. "But really, simply going for the same gender? Do you think that'll be the solution? Did you even realize you were making a play at Malfoy?"

Harry started. Apparently he and Hermione had spoken at cross-purposes for a second. He had meant hair colours. But then he thought about that.

"I don't know, really. But the fact is, I don't understand girls. They're so complicated!" he said. "A guy will at least tell me what he means and say things how they really see them. It's … easier. And no, I didn't make a play at the git. That was an accident."

Hermione just sighed. "You know, we're not going to judge you. It's not even a bad thing in the wizarding world, and personally I don't have a problem with it, either. It's just … You are already so high–"

Harry wanted to protest, but Hermione cut him off.

"-and if you're really developing feelings for boys then you're even more unreachable for the others."

They entered a book store and Hermione started to peruse the shelves systematically.

"What are you searching for?" Harry asked after five minutes.

"I already know what I want," said Hermione, plucking a book from the shelf. "My parents wanted something to read about our world, and I thought I could give them a book about magical beasts and animals. It's not as dry as the school books." She didn't glance at the other books a second time but marched straight to the counter and paid. "And what do you have in mind for Snuffles and Moony?"

"I don't really know … it's difficult with those two. I think I know them inside out, but then again I have no idea what they like to play, or which wine they prefer, or other things like that, you know?" said Harry sadly.

"Mmh," hummed Hermione, rubbing her chin. "What about photos? I bet Snuffles loves photos of you."

"I could do that," agreed Harry thoughtfully, "But I don't want it to be the main present. They deserve more than a few slips of paper."

Harry!" she scolded. "You know damn well that it is the sentimental value that counts. He wants to see you grow up."

"But still," said Harry stubbornly. He lowered his voice to a deep whisper. "At least I'll be with him for Christmas this year again. I know that it will be enough for me."

Hermione's eyes started to shine brightly. "Oh, that's _wonderful_," she whispered.

"Yeah … but I still don't know what to give him. I never have any good ideas," he said in frustration.

"What about an invitation for a really fancy dinner?" Hermione asked, wiping her wet eyes discreetly.

"I don't want to make Moony jealous," said Harry morosely.

"Moony? Jealous? Are you implying they–" Hermione sputtered for a while, and Harry smirked.

"Yes. At least I would bet all of my money on it."

"Well," said Hermione finally, coughing lightly in embarrassment. "Then take Moony with you. I suppose you don't have a present for him, either. It's simple, really. And I already know the perfect restaurant. Do Snuffles and Moony like Italian food?"

The rest of their day was spent with fun and much laughter. They spied on Seamus and Blaise who were standing behind a house and snogging like there was no tomorrow. They also saw how Pansy tried to seduce a still fuming Malfoy to kiss her, which he, of course, absolutely refused to do; and they even saw Hagrid flirt with Madam Rosmerta in the Three Broomsticks when they were having lunch themselves.

Later they went to Madam Puddifoot's little café, only to mock the couples that sat there. They drank coffee and exchanged the most sickening, sweets words they could think of. Unfortunately the only ones that came out of the café, green from all the cooing, were themselves.

Ron was nowhere to be seen, and slowly Harry and Hermione became worried about his behaviour. They remembered all too well their fourth year, and of how Ron hadn't spoken with Harry for months.

When it was time to go back, in the late afternoon, they watched Dean and Ginny, who were walking in front of them, their hands tightly clasped.

"I can't believe it!" hissed Hermione, staring at the joined hands. "Moony and Snuffles! I-I always thought they had some women somewhere …"

"I wonder why you didn't put the pieces together this time," smirked Harry. "I mean, it is really obvious. They always hang together, go on errands, stay together you-know-where … not to mention the looks they're always giving each other."

Hermione bit back a comment. "Well, I didn't get to talk to them that much," she said in a huff. "But it isn't that important, anyway …"

Harry snickered at his friend. It wasn't very often that Hermione failed to notice something. But to give her credit he had to admit that she worked really hard for the DA and rarely had time to do something else than study and doing research.

The rest of the way they spent talking about the next day's DA meeting, and what exactly Hermione would be telling the others. Harry didn't worry about Voldemort. After all, the bastard wanted to know if they were working on a counter action, and maybe Harry was beginning to get a feeling for his nemesis, maybe glee, maybe dread … And while Voldemort was considering himself safe, Harry would quietly learn Occlumency and Legilimency, and then, then maybe he could spy out something on his own …

"We're back, Harry," Hermione's voice called him back to the present. "Come in, it's getting really cold."

They stepped through the door, warily eying Filch, who scowled at them and made marks beside their names. Hermione dragged him to their common room and ordered him to change his clothes. His cloak was soaked and his shoes were quite clammy, too. He shucked them off and slipped into a dry pair of sneakers.

In the Great Hall they took their tea. Madam Puddifoot's café had been good for entertainment, but the Hogwarts coffee was much better. Not many students were back yet, so some Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs used the opportunity to sit with Harry and Hermione and talk about the DA. But first someone brought up their brief encounter with Malfoy, and they all enjoyed his consternation.

"Do you really like blondes?" Hannah asked sweetly, twirling one of her pigtails in her fingers. Ernie glowered at her and then at Harry.

"Uh, yeah. And long hair," said Harry sheepishly. "Thank god the git only has one of those traits."

The students at the table chuckled in amusement.

"But you don't really like blokes, do you?" Anthony asked, looking Harry over. "I mean, telling Malfoy of all people that you like blondes …"

Hermione tutted at Goldstein's bluntness and Harry blushed slightly.

"Uh, err, I don't know," he said hesitantly. "Might be, you know. But maybe not."

"Cho was _not_ the best start for you," said Ginny simply and grabbed a sweet pastry. "Besides, she had things on the go with both Davies and Corner since the end of your fifth year. And this is her last year, anyway."

Harry smiled at her. He was grateful for her support. That Cho-disaster had been the main topic in Hogwarts for _days_, and now that he was officially single again the girls were slowly coming on to him. They seemed a lot more determined than in the previous years. Bitterly, he blamed his stupid scar for it.

"The git might imagine things, once he's gotten over the shock," Anthony insisted.

"Honestly," groused Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Even _if_ Harry told Malfoy directly to his face that he liked blond blokes, it would _never_ mean he liked the idiot!"

"Yeah," agreed Harry with renewed energy. "With an attitude like his, he can't even get a decent girl to kiss him."

Everybody smirked. It was a well-known fact that Pansy was anything but decent. Fortunately the matter was settled then. Hermione seemed to be right – no one had a real problem with him being probably bi or gay. Still, he didn't wish for this to make the round faster than necessary and asked that much of his friends. They agreed, thankfully. Some even found it funny to see what others would say once they found out by accident.

Unfortunately both Dennis and Colin seemed to glow with excitement. Harry had the uneasy feeling that their worshipping wouldn't cease anytime soon.

"Harry, don't you have a DADA essay to finish?" said Hermione with a certain undertone in her voice.

"Uh, yeah. We better get going, then." He stood up and smiled at his DA. "I'll see you tomorrow at the latest. Bye."

He and Hermione marched off.

"Thanks for rescuing me," he muttered once they were well on their way up to Gryffindor Tower.

"Their asking was becoming disrespectful," said Hermione easily. "Besides, your sexuality is your concern only, and maybe that of the person you're trying to woo."

Harry blushed again, this time a lot hotter than earlier in the Great Hall.

"I'm not wooing anyone!" he hissed.

"I noticed," said Hermione, smiling mischievously. "It's a miracle that Cho noticed you at all."

"Hermione–" Harry was making him angry now, a feat that Hermione didn't achieve very often. But girls were a really sore spot for him.

"Oh, Harry, you were thirteen! No one expected you to know anything about the whole boy and girl thing," she said reassuringly. Her face softened considerably. "And with that family of yours no one wondered, either." Harry had told her about Dudley's treatment, and that he had chased all potential friends away.

"How do you know so much about these things?" Harry asked in a defeated voice.

"Soap operas, communicative older friends and the occasional school gossip," replied Hermione. "_And_ I'm a girl."

Harry rolled his eyes. "That must be the main reason."

She swatted him playfully. "Lumides," said Hermione, and the portrait of the Fat Lady swung aside.

"Do I really have to do the stupid DADA homework?" pouted Harry. "This essay is even worse than the last one, and I thought nothing could top that."

"I saw your last grade, and yes, unfortunately you have to. I'll even double check it for you." She flashed him a smile. "After all, it's just copying the book, and even for you it can't be that hard."

Harry pouted even more. "That's why! It's just copying! I hate it."

"I know," soothed Hermione and walked to her favourite table in the common room. "Now be a good boy and get parchment and your quill." She winked to show that she was only teasing him.

Harry sighed and did as he was told. It was just DADA, after all. The meeting tomorrow was occupying his mind, anyway, and therefore it was a good thing that Hermione checked his work.

He glanced up once only to find her writing a long letter, apparently to Krum again. Harry wondered; their contact had seemed a bit strained the last four months. He wrote the last few words of his essay, and then blew over the slowly drying ink.

"Are you writing to Krum?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," answered Hermione without looking up.

"Are you two still … interested in each other?" Harry asked tentatively.

Now Hermione looked up. Her small hand pushed some of her bushy hair behind her shoulder, and Harry noticed that it had become a bit longer.

"Why do you ask?" she asked him.

Harry fidgeted. "Oh, just because … maybe you need advice in boy-issues or something like that …"

Hermione snickered. "To answer your question: yes, he still interests me, and apparently he still wants to write to me, too." Her expression changed from merry to contemplating. "He's mature and refreshing in some ways."

"Some would say he hasn't got the right face to make you happy," Harry pointed out, hinting at Ron's jealousy.

"Good looks aren't everything," said Hermione with determination. "I learned that the hard way. Lockhart had a pretty face too, but he was as useless as Hannah without a wand, really. Now, if it was somebody like _Snape_ – at least both Krum and he men are men deserving of respect."

Harry pulled a face at that. "He's intimidating and all that," he granted, a bit sourly, "But do you really want to breach a shell like his? I don't know what Krum's problems are, but I bet they're a walk in the park in comparison to Snape's issues."

"Viktor deserves respect too," said Hermione. "I like him for his consideration and that he doesn't flaunt his fame and abilities. Unlike other people I know." She meant Ron, and Harry chuckled. "Besides, his world does not revolve around only Quidditch. He's taking his studies quite seriously."

Harry groaned playfully. "Trust you to choose someone who's as studious as you are!" He sat up. "And why, exactly, have you gotten so little mail from him lately?"

"In his university they have semester exams," explained Hermione. "But they are over in a few days, so I'm writing this letter now. It will arrive just in time, then."

"Where do you want it to go with him?" Harry questioned, now truly curious.

"We'll just see," she replied secretively.

Harry left her alone and simply gave her his essay. Because he had just copied the facts down from the book (with a slightly different wording, of course) she was satisfied with his efforts.

And then it was dinner time and they threw their cloaks over their shoulders to keep the chill out that seeped through every nook and cranny into the castle.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, Harry. Tonight I wanted to ask Snape something about that Stimulus Potion. I already searched every shelf in the Restricted Section, but there was nothing."

"What is it this time that you want to argue about?" joked Harry.

"Well, he told us to use common fairy powder, but Viktor just happened to tell me that dragon fairy wings, pulverised, are much more potent in the outcome. I believe him in theory, but Snape is the Potions Master." She scowled. "And besides, we're the advanced class. I want to know why we're brewing the soft stuff. I mean, this is war, and we need our potions as potent as possible."

"The poor man," sighed Harry in false compassion. "Another night brawling with Miss Hermione Granger." He winked. "Just tell me who wins this time."

"At the moment we're even," she said easily. "But he's slippier than an eel. In our discussion about Manticore talons he unfortunately won, but this time it isn't about the ingredient, it is about teaching policy."

Harry saw a glimmer of her enthusiasm for SPEW in her eyes and hurried to open the door to the Great Hall for her. He was really fine with her feud with Snape, but he wanted to stay out of it.

Most of the students were already seated, and a lot of them were pointing at Harry and talking about the infamous line he had offered Malfoy. He felt the heat in his cheeks and tried not to look at Cho. Hermione nudged him forwards until he slumped onto the wooden bench. Ron sat across from him and scowled at the Slytherins.

"Harry, why do you always bring out lines like that when I'm not with you?" he scolded. "I mean, this must be the remark of the year! Everybody is talking about it! And just look how he's fuming!"

But Harry didn't feel like turning around and confronting Malfoy. He just reached for the pumpkin juice and poured Hermione and himself a glass.

"Oh yeah, he's completely red in the face," said Seamus excitedly. "And I must say, it's really unbecoming with that pale alabaster skin …"

Seamus, Ron and Neville burst into snickers. Dean had decided to take his dinner in the company of Alicia, Lee and Katie, obviously still trying to avoid getting too close to Ron so soon.

Ron gasped with laughter. "Absolutely brilliant Harry, to say to the git that you prefer blondes!" He held his sides, gasping for breath.

Harry gave Hermione a helpless look, and she shrugged. Maybe it was better to tell Ron later that it had been purely by accident that Harry had told Malfoy_,_ of all people_, _about his preferences concerning hair. Well, it _was_ hilarious but for him it was rapidly getting old and somehow he couldn't quite relate to the giddiness of the other boys.

During dinner Harry felt like a lone person on an island. The boys and girls around him were chattering and laughing while he was trying to think about what to say tomorrow at the DA meeting and how to proceed. Seeing that it was their last meeting this year as well, he wanted to make some concrete plans.

Fifteen minutes, a roasted steak, boiled vegetables and a French éclair for dessert later he excused himself and left the Great Hall. A door banged shut faintly behind him as he walked down the dimly lit hallway. He walked off as quickly as possible, watching out for students who wanted to catch him under a sprig of mistletoe.

"Do you think this is funny, Potter?" hissed a cold voice suddenly from behind him.

Harry had barely reached the crossing that led to the staircases when Malfoy descended on him like a Harpy and shoved him into a dark niche.

"Telling me off the way you did on the main road of that wretched village? Do you think that's _funny_?"

Watching the irate blonde coolly, Harry regained his composure. "What's your problem, Malfoy?" he spat. "_You_ do that all the time. I just gave you a taste of your own medicine. I take it you didn't like that, now did you?"

Malfoy angrily stepped closer. "You're driving me insane, Potter! I swear, if you're starting to come on to me too, just to entertain your filthy little friends, I'll hex you so bad that your dead, rotten mother won't recognise you in the afterlife!"

"Take. That. Back," demanded Harry icily. Quicker than a lightning bolt could flash, he had drawn his wand and pressed it into Malfoy's throat.

They glared at each other but Malfoy wasn't giving in. But he didn't try to draw his wand either. Harry had proven at the end of the fifth year that he was ten times faster when it came to this.

"Now, Malfoy," hissed Harry menacingly. "Apologise, or everybody will hear what nice, soft hair you have, too." Still pressing his wand into the hollow of Malfoy's throat, he reached out with his other hand and tousled the slicked back hair with determined, rough strokes.

Malfoy glared at him as if he would incinerate him that very second with a burst of brilliant, hot fire, never to be seen again. His common sense, however, forbade him to step away or lunge at Harry without a wand.

Harry grimaced, and the tension was tangible now. "Soft, yes, but greasy. Ugh." He swiped his hand on the front of Malfoy's robe. "And I had to touch you, too. It's just not my day. You know, without that bottleful of cooking grease you'd look halfway decent. But with it you just look like a stupid pimp. I don't know why I'm even bothering with you, ferret-boy. Tell me, do the walls in your common room have grease spots where you've leaned against them?"

"So, you like my hair," drawled Malfoy very slowly, completely ignoring the insults.

"At least I say the truth when I tell someone off. Unlike you." Harry stared into Malfoy's cold, grey, gemstone-like eyes, wand still in place.

"What are you, Potter? Are you _gay_?" sneered Malfoy. He started to straighten his hopelessly messy hair, then sighed impatiently and drew his wand. With a spell all the grease was gone, and his white blond hair framed his angular face in soft, dry waves.

"That's really none of your concern, Malfoy," Harry sneered back. "But even if I were, _you_ would be the _last_ person on the planet I would want to be together with. Your persona isn't likeable. Not at all."

"Oh, really," muttered Malfoy, leaning closer in an obvious attempt to intimidate Harry with his superior two inches. Then he suddenly jumped back a good three feet. "Fuck you, Potter! Are you still using that … stuff?"

"Stuff?" asked Harry coldly, raising his left eyebrow. "Could you please make sense for once, Malfoy?"

But Malfoy didn't answer him. He glared at Harry with his most crushing glare and rushed off. Sighing impatiently about all of the ruckus, Harry put his wand away and resumed his way to Gryffindor Tower.

"Malfoy is _so_ disturbed!" Harry complained later when he was surrounded by Ron and Hermione. "First he insults my mother, then he rambles on about that stupid perfume – I swear, that stupid git is starting to imagine things and if this doesn't stop I'll personally call St. Mungo's!"

"He's getting weird lately," Ron agreed. "But that might be Parkinson's fault. She's getting all clingy, and if we can believe Blaise she tried to seduce him two nights ago – lying naked in his bed and all."

"He also told me Malfoy threw her out immediately," said Hermione with deep satisfaction in her voice. "As if a cow like her deserves someone like Malfoy–"

"_Hermione_!" cried Ron in shock. "Don't tell me you just implied someone like Malfoy deserves better! He doesn't!"

Half of the students in the common room turned to look at them. Some laughed. Ron's temper tantrums concerning Malfoy or Snape were well known and a welcome source of entertainment among the Gryffindors.

"Malfoy, at least, has some class," said Hermione impatiently. "Really, Ron, you should learn to see things objectively. And all I really want is that Pansy doesn't get someone like Malfoy if Malfoy could do so much better. I mean, his looks, his money, his father, the contacts … Pansy just wants to sit at home and watch her pug-faced children."

"Yeah," agreed Harry. "Imagine the kids between them. It would be like breeding backwards in evolution."

Hermione laughed while Ron still sputtered. Harry had a great time. After ten o'clock the common room began to slowly empty. Hermione was putting her stuff away and looking at Harry with pleading doe eyes. It was maybe a good thing that Ron was planning Dean's early, violent demise, because Harry could hand Hermione his Invisibility Cloak and then she was out of the common room without his hot-tempered friend noticing.

"Hey, where's Hermione?" Ron finally asked after a good five minutes of ranting.

"She's already gone to bed," lied Harry without batting an eye lash. "I guess she was tired of your rambling."

"Oh. Okay, shall we head up, too?" Ron asked sheepishly.

"Yeah, I'm pretty tired," yawned Harry. "All that wandering around in Hogsmeade has really put me out."

He and Ron staggered up the stairs.

"I just hope Neville can get his darn cactus quiet," hissed Ron disgustedly. The _mimbulus mimbletonia_ was making stranger noises than ever. It almost sounded like a meowing cat, only more unnerving.

"Maybe we should just cast a silencing charm on it," said Harry, shrugging. When Ron nodded, he quickly cast the spell on the offending plant.

In the meanwhile Ron spelled his teeth clean and Harry felt inclined to follow his example. In a matter of minutes they were dressed in their pyjamas, sufficiently clean and ready to jump under the covers.

"Oh look," muttered Harry just before he fell asleep, "it's snowing really hard outside …"

"Mmh," said Ron unintelligibly.

That night Harry had the strangest dream. He dreamed of a pair of hands, and in his dream he was attempting to read their promising lines. But all he could see was the very strong, heavy love line that the person had. Whenever he tried to grab the elegant hand to examine it fully it slipped away and became obscured once more by shadows and smoky mist.

The strangest thing was, the next morning Harry felt himself craving that hand. He wanted to read its intriguing lines, wanted to discover the particular life of that person behind the hand and the lines. A short look in his Dream Catcher, however, disappointed him. Even in the daylight it wasn't helpful. The hands were teasing him, dancing in front of him, but he couldn't grasp them. And he discovered that the magic of this dream didn't quite exist in the cold surroundings of the Dream Catcher. Still, those hands – they were male, Harry discovered instantly – fascinated him.

Sunday morning was quiet. A good number of the dormitory windows were snowed in. Only through the upper half could the weak light of December shine through. Harry was the first to awake, and he occupied his time with the strange dream. Ron was mumbling something under his breath about killing Dean with a cucumber. Neville was snoring softly, and Dean and Seamus were still out like lights.

Harry made use of the silence and immersed himself into his Eastern meditation. It was rare in their dorm that he could relax so deeply. Breathing deeply and evenly he balanced his thoughts and started to visualise the energy that was flowing through his body. After a few minutes he reached the plateau of deep calm, a trance-like state. All that he had learned in the long months of training was finally paying off. Hermione's books were good, but he knew that he could have done it quicker with a good teacher.

He was starting to build up his walls against attacks on his mind. Now it seemed so easy, like playing with colours and Lego blocks that did exactly what he wanted. Unfortunately Ron chose the moment to shake him gently awake.

"Oi, Harry," he whispered. "Mate! Wake up! Breakfast is almost over."

Harry moaned in protest. He cursed Ron for disturbing his meditation and seriously considered hexing him. But in the end he settled for waking up slowly and then glaring at his best friend.

Ron was already in the shower and yelped at the cold water when Harry finally got up from his bed. Dean watched him in sympathy.

"One would think he knows by now that you can get whatever you want in the kitchen," said Dean resentfully. "But he prefers to be a stupid idiot."

Harry sighed. Sometimes the truth was really sad.

"Yeah," he mumbled, ruffling his raven hair. He absentmindedly took his pyjamas off and put a large towel around his waist. "And I'll let him know that."

Dean snickered and finished getting dressed with his cloak. "I'm off to breakfast then." He winked. "And snagging a few minutes with my girlfriend."

Harry waved and headed into the shower. He really was with Dean in this one. And he was very happy that the boy was persistent and stood up for his girlfriend and himself. A weaker boy surely would have left Ginny alone by now.

Thankfully the water was warm now. Harry enjoyed the spray of hot, steaming water. The cold disappeared and he was engulfed in warmth. Sighing he started to wash himself, completely ignoring Ron. It really was ridiculous. He decided to speak to Ron again only when he ended that stupid you-better-not-touch-my-baby-sister thing.

Harry was alone when he exited the shower. Even Neville was gone by now, so he dressed in peace, tried to comb his messy hair and then left for breakfast.

He arrived in the Great Hall with only fifteen minutes left for breakfast. Hermione was still sitting there and pushed a plate in front of him. It was filled with toast, scrambled eggs and croissants. When he was eating she also gave him a bowl of porridge.

"You don't expect me to eat all of that, do you?" asked Harry incredulously. He speared a piece of his eggs and ate it.

"You need your strength," she replied sternly. "Don't forget that you have a meeting with Hagrid today."

Harry hadn't forgotten, but it felt strange to have Hermione to fill his plate and urge him to eat. In that moment she had a scary resemblance to Mrs Weasley.

The owls swooped in and delivered mail, mostly the _Sunday Prophet_. Hermione caught her copy and paid the owl. Looking over her shoulder Harry learned that Umbridge's plans concerning the Muggle protection and the closing of several Ministry departments were becoming more and more concrete. This was not good. A short look at Ron proved just how bad this really was.

After breakfast Ron, Harry and Hermione trudged to Hagrid's hut. Overnight so much snow had fallen that they had to wade through it. It was almost knee deep, and when they finally arrived at the hut they were panting and wheezing like horses after a race.

Harry knocked when they had caught their breaths, and the half giant merrily beckoned them in. Fang jumped up and down and tried to lick the visitors.

"'Ello," greeted Hagrid. "Come in, I've made tea."

The three sat down at the table. Hagrid gave each of them a huge mug with steaming tea and placed a bowl with cookies in front of them.

"Yer' 'ere ter try an' summon another beast, aren' yer?" he asked.

"We have time," said Harry. He took a sip from the tea and sighed. It felt so good. "How are the Garden Gnomes and Kneazles doing?"

"Oh, they're freezin'. Waiting fer yer ter come back with more cream …" He shook his head mournfully. "Winter is always hard fer the 'lil fellas, yer know?"

"The Kneazles are doing well without human help," said Hermione wisely. "They're hunting, after all. But Garden Gnomes are eating buds and leaves."

"Exactly," agreed Hagrid in his deep, grumbling voice. "An' that's why Professor Snape is bringin' some Gnome food out terday."

"_Snape_?" asked Ron incredulously. "Why would he do that?"

"Dumbledore asked him ter," replied Hagrid, completely unfazed.

"We brought some cream," Harry intervened quickly before Ron could start another full-blown argument. "Maybe they want to help us … later." Hagrid regarded him with a mixture of amazement and deep-felt fondness.

"Maybe they will", he agreed gruffly.

They drank their tea, and Ron felt even brave enough to try one of the cookies. Unfortunately Hagrid had made them with caramel which meant that Hermione had to spell Ron's teeth clean. Otherwise he would have gagged on his own tongue.

Thirty minutes later Snape knocked at the door and Hagrid let him in.

"'Ello Professor. Do yer want some tea?"

Snape glared at the three Gryffindors. "No, thank you," he said, never taking his dark eyes off of them.

With an abrupt movement he turned away, took something out of his pocket and enlarged it. Harry recognised the bundled up stuff as buds and leaves from Madam Sprout's plants. Obviously Hogwarts was feeding the Garden Gnomes and other magical and non magical animals during the deepest winter. Fang was prodding Snape's left hip with his large nose. Absently Snape's left hand started to pet the huge dog on the head.

After enlarging his burden Snape turned around once more, and this time his glare met the defiant stare of Hermione.

Harry and Ron instinctively shrank back from the withering glares the two gave each other. Hagrid just looked at the two, not understanding what the problem was. Neither did Ron, but Harry didn't feel up to enlighten his oblivious friend about Hermione's occasional visits to the dungeons.

After some seconds of heated glaring, Snape finally left the hut, banging the door shut behind him.

"What was that about?" Ron asked breathlessly. "What did you do this time, 'Mione?"

"How is the score now?" Harry asked curiously. The shock of seeing Snape in Hagrid's sacred hut lessened considerably.

"Two to one for me," said Hermione proudly. "But I tell you, it took me two hours to talk some sense into his thick skull."

"Now, will he teach us the more potent potions or did he only admit defeat in front of you?"

Hermione snorted. "Oh, he didn't admit defeat. He said he refuses to teach such imbeciles – of course he meant us – such dangerous potions." She lowered her voice. "I had to remind him that we are the fighters of tomorrow and _need_ to know how to brew good, working potions. He really is an old bat!" She huffed and pushed some hair behind her shoulder. "But he will do it."

Harry laughed. "I knew you'd make him."

"He docked fifty house points," sighed Hermione mournfully. "We better think of a way to get them back. Will you help me, Harry?"

"Of course." Harry drank his tea and stood up. "Now, are you up to some summoning? Today I want to try the Thestrals."

Hagrid grumbled disapprovingly. "Are yer sure yer want ter try that?" he asked, fidgeting with a caramel cookie.

"I have to," said Harry determinedly. "We might need them some day, and you know it."

"Harry is right," agreed Hermione quickly. "They helped us last year and they will help us again, hopefully. Please?"

Hagrid had always had a soft spot for Hermione. Sighing, he petted her hair, giving in to her doe eyes.

"Oh, well. But I'm tellin' yer what ter do."

"Of course, Hagrid," reassured Harry, feeling a bit bad that they had talked the friendly half giant into one of their schemes again. "We will behave."

Sighing again Hagrid stood up. The floorboards creaked under his weight and Fang jumped up in excitement. Ron put his empty mug down. Tea was the only thing they dared to take from Hagrid, and after that horrid cookie he'd needed it badly, mainly to calm his nerves.

As soon as the door was open, Fang jumped into the fresh snow, yipping in excitement. He waded through the white mass, making a broad track.

"Let's go behind the hut," mumbled Hagrid. He was the first to go, effectively making a comfortable aisle for Harry, Hermione and Ron. He had taken some of the Gnome food with him. "Help me ter lay it out," he said.

Ron and Harry both took large handfuls of buds and scattered them over the snow. For good measure Harry performed the summoning charm. Hermione prepared the cream and heated it with a heating spell. It wouldn't be very good if the Garden Gnomes' tongues were freezing while slurping it. Ron tried to do the spell, too.

Only minutes later the place was crowded with Garden Gnomes, Kneazles, ravens and even some Knarls who cautiously nibbled on some young leaves. Crookshanks swaggered from who-knows-where into the group of Kneazles and started to woo a particularly fat and fluffy Kneazle lady with loud purring and head-rubbing.

"Look who's fallen in love," said Harry, pointing at Crookshanks.

"I just hope he won't bring the kittens into the castle," said Ron dryly.

"You're mean," pouted Hermione. "Kneazle kittens are _so_ cute! Besides, they could hunt down vermin. Crookshanks proved that he can do it." Her knowing stare let Ron wither.

"I'm going into the forest now," said Hagrid after the worst fighting for food was over. "Are yer coming with me, 'Arry?"

"Yup."

"Sorry, Ron, Hermione, but I can watch out fer only one of yer," said Hagrid fondly. "I know how much yer like it ter get lost in there."

Harry jumped up and gave his grimacing friends the thumbs-up. Hagrid led him into the Forbidden Forest. It was the path they had taken in their last lesson about Thestrals.

"Yer can summon 'em first," grumbled Hagrid while they were plodding through the snow. "It will take me some time ter get the meat, anyway."

"Alright," replied Harry.

After a ten minutes long march they arrived at the clearing. Hagrid took another, narrower path into the darker depths of the forest while Harry pulled out his wand and cast the summoning charm.

Soon enough a few Thestrals landed on the clearing and trotted up to Harry, nudging him with their skeletal noses.

"Hello there," he said. "I just wanted to say thank you for last year. You were amazing. I've never flown faster. Not even on my Firebolt."

He petted every single Thestral and told them that Hagrid would be coming with their food soon.

Finally Hagrid came back, dragging some dead does by the legs. He obviously had dragged them the whole way through the snow, because the bodies were covered in it. Hagrid laid them out, and slowly the Thestrals left Harry's side and wandered over to their food.

"Look, Hagrid!" hissed Harry. "There are Sandwolves, too!"

"It seems they're coming with the Thestrals," muttered Hagrid. "Yer have ter be careful, 'Arry. We don' know what they'll do."

"They wouldn't help us kicking the Death Eaters' asses, would they?" Harry asked, watching in awe as the slender leader of the beasts slunk forwards and circled the last, untaken doe.

"They're hard ter train," explained Hagrid quietly. "They have strong minds, those Sandwolves. And no one has really dared ter do it, either."

Harry wondered why Hagrid could train Thestrals but not the Sandwolves. After all he was said to be the only person in England or even Europe to have done it. And with his liking for dangerous beasts it was indeed a bit strange not to have him dance with joy at the chance.

"You have trained them well," said Harry. "I think it will be no problem to call them."

"Why would yer need 'em?" Hagrid asked curiously.

"Well, not everybody has _a _fast broom as I hav_e_," said Harry. "And at least some members of the DA have ridden on one before. I thought they could be a great help in case Voldemort or Death Eaters attack."

Hagrid's eyes shone with delight. "Oooh, so yer' still training yer friends, good boy, Harry, good boy!"

"Just keep it quiet, Hagrid," said Harry quietly. "We don't want more people to know than necessary. And especially don't talk to strangers about us."

Hagrid had the decency to look ashamed for his big mouth. "I promise," he said seriously. "But the Sandwolves are too dangerous, 'Arry."

"I won't try anything with them," promised Harry.

"Good. Now, let's go back ter Ron an' Hermione."

Harry nodded, and together they wandered back. Despite the dim daylight and the dreary colours of the trees and the earth it was not really dark in the Forbidden Forest. Harry found himself looking at some particularly knobby trees; he even saw some wand trees. Fairies were flitting through the branches and twigs. Their silvery wings fluttered and hummed softly in the chilly air.

As soon as they stepped onto the Hogwarts grounds Ron and Hermione ran up to them.

"Did it work, Harry? Did they come?" Hermione asked excitedly.

"Yeah, they did," said Harry proudly. "But they are already tame, so it wasn't really a surprise."

The Garden Gnomes and Kneazles had formed a big group, cuddling closely together to keep safe from the cold. A sea of yellow eyes drooped; Knarls were hidden under bushy tails. Only the hedgehog-like noses could be seen.

"Let's go back," said Ron. "I'm cold and it's nearly lunchtime."

Harry and Hermione agreed. They bid their goodbye to Hagrid and promised him to visit before they went home for Christmas.

"Man, I'm so hungry," groaned Ron when they entered the castle.

"You're always hungry," said Hermione dryly. "Now, how do we get backthe points Snape docked from me?"

Harry shrugged. Then he spotted Ginny who was helping a first year Hufflepuff collect his marbles.

"Hey, Ginny! Ten points for Gryffindor for helping a fellow student!"

Ginny grinned and waved.

"Twenty percent done, eighty left," hummed Ron.

Malfoy stalked by and bumped purposefully into Harry.

"Watch where you're going, Potter," he snarled, obviously being in a very foul mood.

Harry fanned himself mockingly, blowing some of his scent to Malfoy. The blonde flinched slightly. "Why, and here I thought you liked my perfume, ferret-boy."

"Fuck off, Potter!" Malfoy stormed off angrily.

"One would think he's grateful for the fashion tip I gave him yesterday," said Harry in mock-disappointment.

"What did you do?" asked Hermione suspiciously.

"Oh, I just told him that he would look miles better without all that grease in his hair." Harry grimaced. "Ugh. I even took it off for him - it was so gross."

"You touched his precious hair?" Ron asked incredulously. "Oh, this is just hilarious!"

"And it was obnoxious." Harry made a swiping motion on his shirt, and Ron doubled over with laughter. Even Hermione's mouth twitched in amusement.

Pansy ran after Malfoy. Apparently she had heard the last few lines of their conversation.

"Wait for me, Dracy! I like your hair as it is!" she yelled through the hallway. Students stopped dead in their tracks and watched the little scene.

Malfoy at the other end of it stiffened, turned around and glared at her. His mouth was so thin it could have rivalled McGonagall's lips when pressed together in fury at any time. He then glared at Harry and fled through a door that led eventually to the Great Hall.

"Ouch," said Hermione. "You must have hit a sore spot. I mean, now it's Pansy or his hair."

"I know what I would choose," Ron and Harry said at the same time.

They wandered to Gryffindor Tower, laughing about Malfoy's distress. Hermione insisted that they change their wet clothes before they could eat. She claimed to not have any desire to shoo two sick boys to the infirmary. Therefore, and without a real choice, Ron and Harry changed into dry jeans, pullovers and sneakers. Harry preferred to have his wand in his sleeve, but with only his pullover on he put it in his back pocket rather than his waistband – it was easier to draw it that way for him. Ron chose the waistband of his jeans, not really caring how fast he could draw it right now.

Hermione joined them in the common room, and together they made their way down to the Great Hall.

"Mmh, today it is potato-and-ham-gratin," purred Ron when he smelled the air. "I love the House Elves."

Hermione pursed her lips but kept silent. On their way they managed to award twenty more points to Gryffindor. Between the portrait of Charlotte the Charming and the rusty armour of Sir Goodpelt the Creevey brothers met them and tagged along. Harry felt like a complete dolt. As much as he respected Colin and Dennis as members of the DA and friends – their fascination for him was unnerving.

At the entrance door to the Great Hall suddenly the corridor was filled with a lot of students, many of them completely clueless why it wasn't going any further.

Hermione, Ron and Harry pushed through the crowd.

"What's going on here?" demanded Hermione.

A fourth year from Ravenclaw turned around to them. "Some Slytherins are blocking the door from the other side. And there's a sprig of mistletoe over the door."

"Oh no," said Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Thank you, Hatcher."

"No problem," the boy said adoringly.

Harry sniggered quietly. Then he pulled his wand and said: "_Alohomora_!"

The door opened widely. On the other side stood Crabbe and Goyle with mean, impish grins in their face. Their leader, Malfoy, was nowhere to be seen.

"Okay, you had your fun. Now go away," ordered Hermione with a cold voice.

"No, I think we like it here," Goyle said, grinning lecherously.

"Ugh, too much information," uttered Hermione in disgust.

Harry stepped forward, carefully staying out of the range of the mistletoe. "Now, as Prefects we are telling you to clear the door, or we will take house points."

"We can stand where we want," said Crabbe slowly.

"Yes, but the school rules about sprigs of mistletoe say that no one can be forced to kiss. And you obviously plan to get some." She shuddered again, and with her all the other girls. "Besides, you are blocking the way to lunch. Those are two crimes in one. And now my last warning: go away or I'll take points."

"No," said Goyle triumphantly. He crossed his fat arms and took a defiant stance.

"Fine. That'll be ten points from Slytherin," said Harry.

"We'll get them back, Saint Potter," said Crabbe, completely unfazed.

"Another ten points for insulting a Prefect," said Hermione coolly. "You're making yourself unhappy."

"Students, please try to take another way into the Great Hall," Harry called over the countless heads. A collective groan was his answer. "I know. I'm sorry guys!"

On the farthest end a shuffle started. The younger ones obeyed but the older ones stayed to watch the spectacle.

Hermione sighed and conjured a scrap of parchment and took a ball-pen. She scribbled something, then levitated her message to the High Table. McGonagall received it, Harry observed, and she really didn't look happy. Not at all. In fact, she was pushing her chair back with so much force that it fell over. Snape stood rigid in a second, and then followed her.

Harry grinned. "Oh, and Crabbe, Goyle, ten points each for your attempt to kiss poor, unsuspecting girls."

"Teachers are coming," informed Hermione coolly. "Now I advise you to stay where you are."

"We'll get you, Potter," hissed Crabbe menacingly. "You think you are all high and mighty–"

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE!" screeched Professor McGonagall with the vocal force of a banshee. "CRABBE! GOYLE! What _exactly_ are you _doing_ here?" She was so livid that she tore the offending sprig of mistletoe to shreds with a very cleverly aimed spell.

Harry admired her foresight not to step into the range of the charmed mistletoe. She then pushed Crabbe and Goyle aside, and with a sigh of relief the students started to file in.

"What do you think you're doing, blocking the main entrance to the Great Hall?" she demanded. "And beneath a sprig of mistletoe no less! THIS IS SO LOW I WONDER YOU'RE NOT FLAT BY NOW!! The Prefects warned you several times! I am taking another twenty points each, and you have detention with Mr Filch and Hagrid for one week after the holidays!" She took a quivering breath through her sharp nose.

Snape approached the scene cautiously. He obviously knew Professor McGonagall when she was angry and decided not to interfere. He looked pretty angry himself, in fact.

"Come, Mr Crabbe, Mr Goyle … you caused enough chaos today …," Snape said in his softest, deadliest voice. "I'll deal with you later …"

Harry noticed that they both paled and started to shake. McGonagall cleared her throat; she was still angry beyond words.

"Miss Granger, Mr Potter, if you would take your seats now," she said curtly. Then she stormed off, back to the teachers' table.

Seamus and Neville filled their plates for them once they were seated.

"I hate them!" hissed Hermione over a mountain of gratin. "These vile, obnoxious oafs really tried to – _ugh_!" She speared an innocent potato and smashed it. "If I were able to I would have had them expelled the moment they attacked Johnny Hough!"

Harry grumbled in agreement and stared glumly on a piece of ham. "But Dumbledore would rather keep them here instead of letting them run free and kill people."

"Yeah," sighed Hermione. "But _still_. I hate them so much!"

Over the table Harry watched Malfoy yell at Crabbe and Goyle, all the while trying to shake the overly persistent Pansy off his arm. Maybe Blaise had been right, he thought, maybe Malfoy didn't really want to become a Death Eater. But maybe he just didn't want to blow his cover too early. And on top of that Crabbe and Goyle had lost Slytherin eighty points in a matter of ten minutes.

Lunch again was the main gossip market. The Gryffindors muttered angrily about the two culprits from their rival house. No one could quite believe that Goyle and Crabbe could stoop so low.

"Actually, I can believe that," said Seamus contemptuously. "I mean, with their looks they'll never get any girl to willingly kiss them."

Parvati, Alicia, Ginny and Katie shuddered visibly.

"We'll watch out for those perverts," Ron promised his sister. "They won't get the chance to kiss anybody."

"Damn right," said Dean angrily. "Least of all my sweet bunny."

"BUNNY?!" Ron screeched. "You call my baby sister _Bunny_? I will _kill_ you!"

He jumped up and lunged over the table at Dean. Seamus and Lee cried out as dishes flew everywhere.

"IMMOBILUS!" thundered Hermione, hexing Ron into a stupor.

The redhead floated over the table, bowls and glasses frozen in place midair. Angelina and Alicia plucked the most dangerous objects out of the air and put them away while Dean, Neville and Seamus were clearing the table under Ron.

"Finite," snapped Hermione, and Ron crashed onto the bare table.

"Ron, I'm afraid I have to take ten points from Gryffindor," said Harry sternly. "Now please sit back down, or 'Mione and I will be forced to dock more."

Ron sat down without arguing. But he eyed Dean with utmost contempt.

Harry sighed and prayed to the heavens that the last meeting of the DA this year wouldn't end in a complete disaster.

Katie pushed a new plate in front of Ron and ordered him to eat. Ron obeyed, but Harry was sure he only did it he could remain undisturbed in his staring at Dean. Ginny glared at her brother and squeezed in next to her boyfriend. Harry knew that this Christmas wouldn't be pretty at the Burrow.

Hermione ignored it all and seemed to be deep in thought. Harry decided to listen to Neville's rambling about his cactus.

"-and he's really grown a lot! I don't really know why though. In my book there is nothing about other things than water."

Parvati listened eagerly; Neville tutored her in Herbology and she obviously wanted to be polite.

"Maybe it's the fresh air, or the height," said Neville, "Or it has something to do with the compressed magic in the school … on the other hand, all magical plants live in environments with magic but Professor Sprout told me that her former professor had a _mimbulus_ _mimbletonia_, too, and it didn't grow so well at all."

Harry smiled faintly at Neville's enthusiasm. Then he remembered something he had wanted to ask Seamus for some time now.

"Seamus?" he asked. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What is it?" Seamus leaned casually on the table and popped an iced cherry into his mouth.

"How do we give the teachers the hand readings? I mean, none of us will be in Hogwarts on New Year's Eve and–"

"What, do you mean–," hissed Seamus in surprise.

"Yeah, but don't ask. Don't tell either, okay? I'm just wondering."

"We will send them by owl, of course. But we can discuss it later." He leaned even closer. "Maybe we could just give them to you and let you handle it. After all you have … contacts."

"With a few maybe, but it would be unfair to the rest of the professors, wouldn't it?"

Seamus just shrugged. "Owl is the solution, then. I think it is the safest way for you, too."

Harry nodded. He grabbed a bowl with chocolate mousse and whipped cream when a camera flashed. Nearly blind, he groped for the culprit, but Colin or Dennis were out of reach. But Hermione could be heard quite well.

"Colin!" she scolded. "That was uncalled for! Look, now he's blind!"

"But it was such a gorgeous shot!" whined Colin.

"Go away," said Hermione strictly. "I'll confiscate your camera if you do that again in the Great Hall."

Slowly Harry regained his wits. He shook his head, and then sighed deeply. He might as well ask for a photo album once he graduated.

After his dessert he had one hour to relax and prepare a last time for the meeting. He had a lot of things on his mind. For one there was Luna. The poor girl was thoroughly disappointed by their new DADA teacher who called herself a Wiccan and wasn't any better than Lockhart. Then there was Voldemort's evil plan to destroy Hogwarts and all its inhabitants. There were the countless hours spent by the DA members to find a counter ritual. There was the knowledge that, maybe, Voldemort had a second plan, the true plan. That they were working for nothing in the end.

Frustrated he paced up and down in front of the fireplace. The obstacles were even more dire than in the last years. Voldemort was getting tricky and he could do nothing to prevent that right now.

Hermione comforted him with her silent presence, and then it was already time to go to the Room of Requirement and start the meeting.

The walk to their destination was uneventful as always. Harry was early so he could open the room for the others and let them enter in small groups. The Marauder's Map was tucked securely into his waistband. He had told Hermione about his future plan to draw a new map with the same purpose but a new, improved layout. Remus had explained to him, in a night long talk; how the ingredients he had given Harry for his birthday, worked; and what spells he had to say. Harry had the booklet, true, but discussing it with his second godfather and genius was something else completely. He was even starting to collect cool lines for the defence mechanism.

Hermione waited patiently while Harry walked along the wall in the seventh floor corridor three times. Thinking about their room came easy now. In no time the heavy door appeared, and Harry and Hermione entered.

"Oh Harry," giggled Hermione, "You're so considerate. You even thought about a Christmas tree for us."

"It must have come subconsciously," said Harry sheepishly.

Soon Luna and Padma arrived and after them Michael Corner, Cho, Terry Boot, Ginny, Dean, Neville and Blaise. They waited for all members, but they didn't have to wait long; the room was filled at the appointed time. Harry was proud of his DA. They had learned many things in these past four months. Not only had they studied the regular stuff on the curriculum for DA but also a lot of additional protection and attacking charms and spells. They had refreshed their knowledge about dark creatures and even worked on a way to defy Voldemort's attack. The book Hermione had started to keep had quite a few filled pages now, and the blackboard behind Harry still had the three possibilities of Voldemort's plan on it.

With a satisfied smile Harry noticed that the shadows in the foe glass weren't coming nearer - like all the last times they had been assembled. Either the other students really were as unaware as it seemed, or they just didn't care where their friends were going every weekend.

With a satisfied smile Harry noticed that the shadows in his foe glass weren't coming nearer – just as allthe other times they had been assembling. Either the other students of the school , those not in the DA, really were as unaware as it seemed, or they just didn't care where their friends were going every weekend.

"Hello," he greeted his friends and acquaintances, "Welcome to the last DA meeting of the year. First of all I want to tell you how proud I am of us. (We covered a lot of things these last months, and you all worked very hard. If I could I would give everyone of you fifty points for your efforts."

A few giggled, others looked thoughtful.

"But, as always, we have no time for self congratulations. Hermione and Luna told me that they found a possible counter ritual for Voldemort's attack plan." He motioned the two girls to him and stepped aside to let them speak. Hermione was the first.

"The counter ritual we found is named after a goddess. _Macha's Revenge_ is named like that because Macha is the goddess of peace, war and death, thus a good match for Arawn's own force. Luna also suggested that we need the help of another goddess. Her name is Morrigan. Some of you might know her from some Avalon stories. She also is a protectress. Both represent cunning, sheer force and dominance over males. To counteract Voldemort's attack, however, we need a third goddess to create a triad. I thought about Brigid because she represents the home life in general, and Hogwarts is some kind of a home for all of us. Other than that she represents everything female and love and would support the other two aspects, Morrigan and Macha, in their femininity."

Luna stepped forward. "But there's more. We found another ritual with a triad of three other gods. They protect against attacks also, but I don't really know if You-Know-Who's attack can be stopped with it. With Macha, Morrigan and Brigid we would have to create a completely new ritual to call upon their help." She looked sadly around, seemingly seeing her comrades for the very first time. "It will be a lot of work, and we have to prepare as early as possible. I would have to call upon the Lady and court for her assistance and ask for advice. That takes time."

Hermione looked warmly at Luna. "It will all work out, you'll see." She then turned to the other and held up a book. "We found those rituals in this book." She held it up so that everybody was able to read the title. "The problem is that we need to combine two or more rituals to stop the vortex Voldemort's ritual will create."

"What's the problem in that?" Zacharias asked.

"The problem is that I don't really know what the outcome will be and that we definitely need more than one Wiccan to do the rituals at all," replied Luna darkly. "I can't possibly do it all by myself. I'm too weak and too inexperienced. Besides, it's kind of frowned upon for one Wiccan to channel so much power alone. It could turn them dark; power is addicting."

"I will ask some friends of mine if they know some good Wiccans," said Harry into the deafening silence, "And if they're willing to help us."

"What do we do if Voldemort's plan really is a trap?" Parvati asked anxiously.

"Yes, what will we do if he's planning something completely different instead?" added her sister Padma.

Harry stared at his DA with blazing eyes. It was now or never, he just knew it. He took a deep breath and braced himself for a possible uproar. "I'm already working on that. I don't know if you've heard already, but I'm not taking remedial Potions with Snape. It's a cover for an art called Occlumency. It's the defence against intrusions of the mind."

Everybody stared at him, most with open mouths and a dumbstruck expression on their faces.

"Damn," said Seamus finally. "That's … creepy. And with Snape! I mean, it's good to see you still alive, mate."

Cho looked at Harry oddly. She then cleared her throat. "I heard it's defence against mind-reading," she said. "My mother knows a bit about that … Some doctors in St Mungo's are using the other thing, Legimency or whatever to heal patients."

"The name is Legilimency," said Harry quietly. ,"It's not quite mind-reading if we can believe Snape. But it allows somebody access to your mind, your thoughts and memories. They teach me because Voldemort tries to mess with my head."

"Blimey, that's really scary," said Anthony Goldstein. "And, are you doing well?"

Harry smiled a twisted, little smile. "I'm getting better. And I'm learning Legilimency now as well." He waited for a few seconds to let them adjust to the news. "And I hope I can see into Voldemort's mind and find out what he's really planning. But this has to be a secret! No one is supposed to know about that, and I need to ask you to keep it quiet. No buts about that."

Twenty-eight heads nodded in agreement. They all knew about the declaration they had signed, and this was one of the few really important secrets they had to keep. They also had an inkling that it wouldn't be a mere acne assault they would receive if they told the tales. Harry could tell that his intense secret training sessions had imprinted in them the need for silence to such and extent that they wouldn't even talk about it if they were asked directly.

When they were still not saying a word after a few minutes Harry looked at them in amusement.

"Oh come on, what is it now?" he asked. "I'm not going to use it on you. Have a little faith in me!" He smirked at Dean, and to his great relief he smiled back.

"If someone knows a Wiccan, please send me a note. The Order of the Phoenix, or part of it, will check them. Don't invite strangers, and don't tell why you need them," said Harry then, closing that point on his agenda. He found that he had worried enough about Occlumency and his secrecy about it. They had wanted to know about his dreams, now they could deal with his secret lessons, too.

Agreeing murmurs sounded throughout the large room.

Luna blinked at them owlishly and put a long lock of hair over her shoulder. "I already know some trustworthy Wiccans. My grandmother Diane and her friend Penelope Underberg. They're fairly strong and strictly anti-Voldemort."

"Wonderful," said Harry. He took a scrap of parchment and scribbled both names down for later use. "Maybe your aunt has some more friends."

"But we will need six, if not seven, strong Wiccans," said Luna sorrowfully.

"We will hand you out a copy of the rituals now so you can have a closer look," announced Hermione, giving a stack of papers to Dennis. "Understanding them a bit better might make the task Luna has to prepare for easier and help you to look for the right kind of Wiccan."

Some girls looked at Luna in sympathy. Students looked at the complex instructions and groaned in desperation. Half of the things they didn't understand outright and the other half seemed gross, to say the least.

"This almost sounds like the stuff Blackadder is trying to teach," said Padma, frowning at the parchment. "Are you sure it works?"

Luna pursed her lips. "It will if it's done by the right people," she said tightly.

"Can you lift things with your kind of magic?" Dennis asked excitedly.

"We could, but that's trivial," replied Luna mistily. "Those who practise the Wicca traditions and Magic do not seek for power but for harmony with the universe."

Dennis looked at her oddly, clearly not understanding what would be so great about passive magic.

"The greatest magic someone can do is leading a happy life," explained Hermione. "And Wiccans choose to achieve that goal their way. They honour Earth and the Lord and the Lady, and generally try to live without doing harm and receiving harm." Hermione sighed when it became apparent that Dennis still didn't see what she meant. "Look, I don't want to convince you, just keep an open mind, alright?"

"Wicca Magic is great for protection," said Luna quietly. "Much of what Harry is learning to help protect himself from mind intruders is also inherent in Wicca protection magic. Mainly the visualising."

Harry nodded slowly. It made sense. These tricks were more psychological than everything else, but with the added bonus of magic energy it became a good protection against enemy magic and attacks on one's mind. In both the 'common' magic and the Wicca way of magic.

Zacharias put his parchment away. "Are we going to do something else today, besides talking about foreign magic and your weird hobbies?"

"Yes. I thought I would randomly hex you to see what you've learned," replied Harry coolly. "And we'll start with you, Smith. Wand out. _Petrificus Totalus_!"

Four hours later Harry dismissed his DA. Everybody had been under assault today, and all had managed to protect themselves sufficiently. He had been attacked by Hermione, Blaise and Smith at the same time and proven that he was a good leader.

"That was the best meeting, ever," said Ron after the last straggling students had filed out. "I didn't even know we were that good."

"Yeah, compared to our adventure in the Ministry it is a vast improvement," said Hermione proudly. "But that's no reason for us to become lazy. The Death Eaters know a lot more spells than us." She looked at Harry. "I suggest that you, Moony and Padfoot look up new, stronger spells for the next term."

"Of course," said Harry. "But I'll need your help. Ron, ask your parents if they know good spells. Ask Bill and Charlie too. Neville, maybe you can get your hands on a good book as well. Luna gave me a book for my birthday. We learned quite a lot of spells from it, but I still have one hundred pages to read."

Blaise slung his arms around Seamus' shoulders and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "And I will look if I find some good spells in our library at home. I already have some for next term, Harry. You'll like them."

"Wonderful," grinned Harry. "I can't wait."

"Oh, it's already dinner time," said Hermione, a bit shocked. "We better get going before someone becomes suspicious."

The others agreed. They left the Room of Requirement and headed back to the Great Hall. Only now Harry realised how hungry he was, and if Ron's grumbling stomach was any indication the others were hungry too. But with all the magic they had used today it was really no surprise.

The Gryffindor table was alive with twittering and chatting students. Today's menu was sandwiches and piquant pastries.

Ron dove immediately for a kidney pastry. Hermione just rolled her eyes and settled next to Angelina.

"I'm actually a bit disappointed," said Harry to her after drinking a glass of pumpkin juice. "I thought I would see Malfoy today." (-)

"Yeah, breaking a habit is difficult, isn't it?" scoffed Hermione playfully. "Honestly Harry, your special love of playing with fire is taking you in a very wrong direction."

"Do you think so?" Harry asked, batting his long eyelashes. "Well, at least he's good looking. It would be bad if I was obsessed with someone as ugly as Peter Pettigrew."

"Obviously," she deadpanned.

Both chuckled and pointedly ignored the quite shocked looks of the students sitting near by.

"Oh come on," said Harry irritably. "You don't believe I would purposefully run into Malfoy just to enjoy his sophisticated company, do you?"

Parvati and Neville coughed in embarrassment. Hermione just smirked into her sandwich.

"I thought so," muttered Harry, huffing at their lack of humour.

But they all jumped as the portal to the Great Hall opened and none other than Lucius Malfoy strode in. Audible sighs wavered through the whole hall. Harry noticed that Malfoy was clad in unusually light colours today. His cloak was a silvery grey, but his suit was white with darker adornments, It went nicely with his white blond hair.

"Ooh, light colours are so wonderful on him," crooned Parvati.

Lavender sighed. "I wish my dad was so cool …"

"I hate the git, but he really has something," said Katie in awe when Malfoy swaggered down to where Draco sat.

"He has a lot of that _something_," added Alicia dreamily. "Too bad he's already married … I wouldn't want him to be my _father_, if you know what I mean."

"How can you!" cried Lee, together with Dean and Seamus.

"He's _evil_!" cried Ginny.

"He's _old_!" yelled Ron.

Harry shook his head. What _was_ it that made the girls turn their heads? But Harry realised that some girls didn't look adoringly at Malfoy, though some boys definitely did. This was strange. Hermione and Ginny didn't give a damn about Malfoy, but Finch-Fletchley, Goyle, Crabbe and some younger Ravenclaws were practically drooling. Malfoy really exuded _something_, and it was somewhat … strange.

Besides, he had seen him now after all, hadn't he? Sheepishly Harry had to admit that he liked it, no matter how strange it felt to do so.

The man sat down next to Draco and greeted Crabbe and Goyle with a superior nod. Draco started to talk to him, and he seemed quite agitated. He motioned with his hands, and his face showed a variety of expressions that Harry had never seen on it before. He focused on the little scene, not noticing that Hermione watched him oddly. Then Parkinson said something to both Malfoys.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Sssh," said Harry and waved her off. "Not now, 'Mione."

Malfoy's face twisted into a grimace of disgust, and Malfoy senior laughed softly. He patted the head of his son and said something in return that made Pansy sulk and scowl.

Having seen enough for the time being, Harry turned to Hermione.

"Yes? What is it?"

"Why are you watching those gits?" she demanded.

"Oh, I think it was just about Malfoy's hair," replied Harry gleefully. "And Malfoy was saved by his father. Pansy looks positively sulky now, don't you think?"

Hermione took a good look, and then agreed with a frown.

"What do you think he will do now?" she asked. "I don't think that cow will give up so soon."

Harry laughed. "He's either letting his hair loose or he's going to be together with Pansy for real."

"The latter is quite unlikely," she said thoughtfully after watching Malfoy and Pansy bicker. Then she shrugged. "As if I care. Here, have a paprika pie, it's quite delicious."

Dinner was very loud this evening, almost unsettling. It was strange for most of the students to see someone as high-positioned in the society as Mr Malfoy sit down at the Slytherin table to talk to his son. Most thought something was going on, and the Gryffindors were no exception. It was the top gossip at all tables.

"I bet he's trying to convince him to take the Dark Mark early," whispered Ron.

"Don't be stupid, Ron," snapped Hermione irritably. "Dumbledore would never tolerate Death Eaters in Hogwarts. As soon as the mark appears on forearms students will be removed. You know that as well as I."

"But why else would he be here, then?" demanded Ron angrily. "Engage him to Parkinson? I don't think so." He pointed at the Slytherin table. Indeed, Mr Malfoy was now talking to Pansy and the girl's face fell more and more.

"Malfoy didn't tell me when I asked him some weeks ago," said Harry. "And I really don't think he will do it now."

"Besides, even if Dumbledore knew what's going on he wouldn't tell us," said Hermione. She sounded a bit put out about that. "So asking him is out as well."

"Wonderful," mumbled Ron with his mouth full. "Another thing we don't need to know."

"I hate it, too," said Hermione with fierce compassion. "But we will come out of this as the victors, you'll see."

"And Dumbledore is not the only one that can withhold information," said Harry equally fiercely.

Hermione looked at him sharply. "What did you not tell him?"

"I had a conversation with Snape about Halloween's eve," said Harry quietly. "He wanted to know what I've seen and if I've been feeling something strange. But I didn't tell him about the pull. He doesn't need to know everything."

"Yeah," agreed Ron angrily. "The greasy git would only steal our information and do who knows what with it."

"_Ron_!" scolded Hermione. "You _know_ he works for our side! Quit your stupid accusations already!"

"But I think he's right," said Harry stiffly. "I didn't want to share. Besides, everything we know I'm sure Dumbledore will know, too. Maybe he even has the same idea to counter Voldemort's rituals. But I'd rather be safe than sorry." He leaned over the table and looked intently at his two best friends. "And if we have two strong units the DA has more room to look for the trap."

"If there's one," said Hermione. "But you heard Luna. She'll need a total of seven or eight Wiccans to do the ritual. Voldemort has to know that. Why would he give such a strong ritual up for some other plan?"

Ron frowned. "It's called strategy, 'Mione," he said. "He's preparing the big guns and he knows that the counter action will take a lot of time and people. If he has a second plan, something else completely, then our defence isn't worth a Knut and he'll kill us anyway with much less effort."

Hermione frowned and pursed her lips. Ron was right, of course. But there was the possibility that Voldemort wanted them to think exactly that.

"Forget about it now, 'Mione," said Harry. "Enjoy the last week of school, the trouble will continue in the next term." He pushed a bowl of fruit salad in front of her.

"I'm not hungry anymore," she said, suddenly sounding quite distracted. "I think I'll go back into the Room of Requirement. I suddenly remembered about a book I wanted to read … I will get it."

"The room will look like a library," joked Ron.

Harry looked after Hermione until she'd left the Great Hall, and then he shrugged and continued to eat his meal, watching the Malfoys occasionally.

"Well, it looks like we won't get any new hints," said Harry after they were sated and full to the rim. "It would have been too good to be true anyway, I suppose."

He and Ron walked back to Gryffindor Tower. The hallways were full of students, and they had to watch out for the sprigs of mistletoe very carefully. Finally back in their common room Harry excused himself. He wanted to read his Occlumency book before the regular school work tomorrow would catch up with him.

Harry and Hermione had patrolling duty tonight. They met ten to eleven down in the common room, straightening cloaks and wrapping scarves tightly around their necks. It was always freezing in the castle at night.

"You still haven't found your scarf?" Hermione asked, smirking. "Who knows, maybe your favourite enemy has it and it is lying in a shrine right now …"

"Oh you," growled Harry mock-angrily.

They stepped out of the common room and bid the Fat Lady goodnight. Tonight the late shift was theirs, unfortunately. Once a month each Prefect team had that unloved duty and tonight it was their turn.

"I hope Malfoy has already left," whispered Hermione when they made their way to the Great Hall to meet Anthony and Padma. "I'm not in my best form to insult him right now."

Harry chuckled. They turned a few more times, dodged an ink bottle, courtesy of Peeves, and entered the corridor that led to the main portal to the Great Hall – the one Crabbe and Goyle had blocked just that midday.

"Oh, look, they're already there," said Hermione.

And indeed, Padma and Anthony were awaiting them at the portal, waving and with chattering teeth.

"It's too bloody cold!" complained Anthony. "We will retire now. Have fun on your shift." With that the Ravenclaw Prefects turned around and quickly left in the direction of the Ravenclaw dormitories.

"How wonderful of them," said Hermione jokingly. "Where do you want to start?"

"Let's go to the Astronomy tower first so the snogging little monsters will have a chance later on tonight without being caught by us."

"You're too kind," chided Hermione, but she didn't argue.

They wandered the hallways and checked towers, classrooms, unused, old storage rooms, even the Room of Requirement. There they found Ginny and Dean. They left the couple alone; they had stress enough as it was, and they really needed some time alone. In the kitchen the elves were only too happy to give them some tea and cookies, then Harry and Hermione walked again in the empty corridors and hallways and looked out for naughty students.

Harry had, of course, his map with him, and together he and Hermione checked where the culprits were hiding tonight. While walking along the freezing corridors they discovered that Lucius Malfoy was still in the castle. He had been in Malfoy's dorm but was now obviously preparing to leave. In fact, he was just coming down a hallway that wasn't very far away from theirs.

"Shall we give him a proper goodbye, 'Mione?" asked Harry grimly.

"Why not," she said flippantly.

Together they left their corridor and awaited Malfoy at the entrance portal. Only minutes later the blond man arrived, and surprise showed on his face.

"Oh, nice," he drawled after a few seconds. "My personal farewell committee."

"Exactly," said Harry. He opened the door and bowed mockingly.

"One would almost think you two have waited for me," said Malfoy with a hint of vicious amusement in his smooth, cool voice.

"I at least would have if I had a reason to," replied Harry airily. "But you've nothing to tell me. So a simple goodnight it is, I'm afraid."

"You know, Potter, I still can't decide if you're unbelievably brave or just incredibly stupid. To say something like that to my face …" He shook his head slightly, causing his long hair to slide over his shoulder.

Hermione tensed slightly as Malfoy eyed her intently.

"And then there's Miss Granger. Undeniably a great mind … too bad she's a Muggle born, really. You two are trouble, aren't you?" His silky voice dropped several notches, and Harry thought that it indeed sounded very sensual. "You two will _look behind_ … things, won't you?" He smiled indulgently. "But of course the Dark Lord won't fail this time, Potter. No matter what you do."

"Do you really believe that?" Harry asked lightly. "One would think _you_ would know better by now. In the last five years my friends and I have managed to spoil Voldemort's plans every single time." He stepped closer, not caring that a gust of cold wind blew at his backside. He didn't notice Malfoy's slight wince. "He hasn't killed me yet, and he won't in the future, either, Mr Malfoy. Maybe _you_ would do well not to forget that."

Malfoy's lips twisted into a curling smile; it looked almost sincere.

"Some people certainly hope so, Mr Potter," he said softly. "Well then, I must. Good luck, Mr Potter. Miss Granger." He nodded curtly at them and stepped out of the castle.

"Sleep well, Mr Malfoy," called Harry after him. "If you can."

He closed the door and rubbed his arms. "Man, it is bloody cold out there!"

"Harry!" hissed Hermione. "Are you _crazy_?! Do you have _any_ idea how you just talked with him?!"

"As he deserves," said Harry. "I don't fear him if that is what you mean. He's our enemy and I have to deal with that."

"I didn't mean that," she said quickly. "I mean … I mean, just how you _talked_! As if you two were equals … enemies, but equals, you know? I just can't _believe_ it!" She muttered on about his insolent talking to one of the most dangerous Death Eaters.

"But I believe he just gave us another hint," said Harry suddenly very sternly. He pushed his glasses up his nose. "Maybe he likes our little talks – now I really think Voldemort has a second plan."

Hermione nodded feverishly. "Yes but we need to find out what it is, and quickly!"

"Malfoy won't tell," said Harry immediately. "He might like to bait us, but he's not stupid. I fed Voldemort with our efforts to find the counter ritual – he had to know. Otherwise he would have become suspicious. But my Occlumency is getting better and better –"

"Let's go somewhere more private," said Hermione in a hushed whisper.

"And I really hope I'll get a chance to breach Voldemort's mind soon," muttered Harry.

"What will you do if he notices you there?" Hermione asked anxiously.

"I'm reading about disguise techniques at the moment but I need to read the book about Legilimency as well. I hope I'll find a way to deceive him. If he notices me I could maybe pretend to have a nightmare about Cedric, or my parents or something like that, you know. The sick bastard would find that funny, I bet." Harry snorted. "The main problem is: how to find the right moment? How do I know when he's talking about it?"

"Well," said Hermione slowly, calculatingly, "How did you get into his mind before?"

The proverbial Knut dropped. "His feelings," hissed Harry in excitement. "I was there when he felt some kind of emotion particularly strongly."

"And do you know what that means?" asked Hermione quickly. "Dumbledore said it works _both_ ways, do you remember?"

Harry felt like swooning. He had never really realized that Voldemort must have used his stronger emotions to slip into his mind. That he hadn't seen it that clearly earlier! It was so simple!

"I need to learn how to feel his more subdued moods, not just his intense feelings," said Harry quietly. He was now hurrying through the hallways, barely looking left or right. "You're a genius – Snape!"

"It was about time that you acknowledged me as such," said Snape in a dark voice and stepped out of the shadow he apparently had been lurking in. Harry had been only barely able to prevent a crash. "But as flattered as I am by your nice compliment I have to take five points from Gryffindor for running in the hallways."

"We've no time for that, Professor," said Hermione impatiently. Although shorter than Snape by almost nine inches she seemed quite intimidating at the moment. "Besides, we were not running, as you well know. Honestly Professor Snape, if paying you a compliment makes you ill-sighted like that you should never, ever receive one again. Your _position_ could be jeopardized. Now, if you would kindly excuse us, we have business to talk about. Come, Harry!"

She stormed off, and Harry hurried to tag along. Her words must have struck Snape speechless, because there was no reprimand, no gleeful point-taking and no verbal slaughtering about their impertinence.

When they had almost reached Flitwicks classroom Harry finally found his voice.

"You say you're shocked by the way I talk to Malfoy but how _you_ talk to _Snape_, that's the most shocking thing I've ever seen and heard."

She just shrugged and yanked the door open impatiently. "I really had no time for his petty games. Now in with you. _Silencio_!"

Her efficiency and strictness fascinated Harry more than he was willing to admit. She made a great drill instructor, and he could almost see the profession "teacher" written in red letters across her forehead.

Taking a piece of parchment and a quill from Flitwick's desk Hermione started to think aloud about the latest events.

"Malfoy tells us Voldemort has two plans," she said, jotting quickly. "By the way, you were right, Harry. He _did_ give you hints. And now they actually make sense … somehow. All the talk about deceiving …"

"And we know that Snape isn't privy to Voldemort's deepest secrets and most important plans."

"That much has been obvious," snorted Hermione, scribbling that down as well. "What will you do now? Let's imagine a scenario where you managed to get the real plan. What's your next step?"

"It depends," said Harry truthfully. "In any case I want the DA involved. They have to see what it is like to fight for something. I would talk to Luna and ask her what she can do with her magic. We might need it in any case."

Hermione nodded and chewed thoughtfully on the tip of Flitwick's prized eagle feather quill.

"Then I would send members of the DA to strategically important spots, build defence and attack forces. We would have to talk with Ron about that."

Hermione jotted that down as well. "Definitely," she agreed.

"In any case I would plan in advance. But if we get his master plan I _need_ to be able to do Occlumency well, otherwise he would find out and we would be in deep trouble."

"We will also need the strategy plans of the Order of Adults," said Hermione, a hint of sarcasm tainting her voice. "But I think Snuffles, Moony or Tonks will help us with these. Another thing completely is Hogwarts' warding plan. I read through _Hogwarts: A History_, but I found nothing, for obvious reasons. It's heavily guarded."

"But we need them to know where we should place our people," mused Harry. "You'll do that, will you? I mustn't know, in case Voldemort tries to spy again."

"Yes, I'll try my best," said Hermione. "And maybe you should try to get your own Pensieve, just in case." Her quirky, apologetic smile touched Harry somehow.

"I wanted that, anyway," he replied. A deep sigh cleared his heavy head. "Well, enough serious talk for one night. It's almost time to go back, anyway."

Hermione nodded. She put her parchment away and stowed her wand in her sleeve. Harry quickly checked the map and found their way to Gryffindor Tower devoid of any teachers, ghosts or cats. They hurried as quickly as possible out of Flitwick's room. Their beds were waiting.

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**End of chapter 4**


	5. Chapter 5a

_**Disclaimer and warnings**: __Please go and see chapter one. _

**Thanks** again to all my readers, especially to those who left a comment and added me to their Story Alert List or their Favourites. :-)

**Note**: This is part one of chapter 5. While editing it after my wonderful beta Licelli was through with it I noticed just how long this chapter is (86 pages in word), so I decided to split it up. Since there wasn't a really convenient place to cut it off it might seem a bit choppy. I hope you won't let that bother you though. Have fun reading!

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**Chapter 5a**

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Harry was very tired on Monday morning. Somehow the holiday spirit had hit him overnight, and hard. After his encounter with Lucius Malfoy and the talk with Hermione he had slept deeply and without any dreams. It was disappointing and relieving at once. Harry pondered that maybe he just had wanted to see those hands again, thus explaining the strange, empty feeling he had.

"Man, you look like death warmed over," taunted Ron at breakfast. "I hope you are up to Flitwick's practical test today, mate."

"Anytime," said Harry. "Coffee, please."

Ginny handed him a mug and he added cream and sugar.

"At least Hermione doesn't look better than you, Harry," chuckled Lee from across the table.

"I resent that," said Hermione. "I used several creams and salves to cover the dark circles under my eyes."

"Yeah, I saw you doing that," giggled Lavender. "Didn't help much, though."

Hermione glared at Lavender and fiddled with her wand threateningly. Lavender quickly recoiled and mumbled something about getting a muffin from the Ravenclaw table. Parvati just sighed and watched as Ron shovelled cereal into his mouth. "I'm already bored, guys. Professor Flitwick doesn't teach anything we haven't had in the DA already. Why can't Harry teach us new stuff?"

Harry felt flattered, but Hermione cut in, realistic as always. "Because we have to keep up pretences, of course." She rolled her eyes. "Ginny, could you give me a cup of coffee, too?"

"Caffeine is making the rounds at Hogwarts," joked Seamus and raised his cup to greet his boyfriend at the Slytherin table.

"You can pass the test today and always take some new spell work with you into class," said Hermione in her lecture-voice. "I mean, there's really no point in wasting time, is there? I'm doing that all the time in DADA and Herbology." She peered at Neville. "Sorry Neville, no offence meant."

"None taken," he said tiredly. "But who put the Silencing Charm on my cactus?"

"It was me," said Harry. "Sorry, but it's getting on our nerves; it's worse than constant baby wailing!"

"Next time use a sound dampening spell, please," said Neville. "It almost dried out because I couldn't hear its crying for water, you know …"

Harry promised reluctantly, and the rest of the table rolled their eyes.

"Well, you don't have to live with that thing!" cried Ron indignantly when Katie snickered unashamedly. "You just wait until you have a _real_ baby!"

Katie's reply was interrupted by the rushing of wings; the mail was there. Several owls swooped over the Gryffindor table, dropping letters into plates and jam jars. Others landed between bowls of porridge and dishes with scrambled eggs. Hermione paid her owl a Knut and took the newest edition of the Daily Prophet.

"Oh no," she said after one look at the front page. "Now I know why Mondays are always the worst days."

"What's up, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"Ron … maybe it's better if we went out …," said Ginny quietly. She was as white as a bed sheet.

Noises died quickly down, and soon the whole Great Hall was entirely too silent for a Monday morning. Several students turned around and looked at their table, whispering quietly to themselves. Even teachers were looking worriedly in their direction.

"Yes, let's take a short walk," said Hermione. "Come on, Ron, it's better for us all–"

Harry and Seamus hoisted Ron from the bench and steered him out of the hall, away from the prying eyes of the other students.

"What the hell is up with you?" demanded Ron. He wrenched himself free and crossed his arms. "I won't go another step until I know what's happened."

"Fine, be that way!" hissed Hermione and slapped the newspaper against his chest.

Ron took it and quickly scanned the front page. Ginny, who stood right next to him, paled even more when Ron started to shake and then crushed the paper in his fist.

"How-dare-that-_cow_-fire-my-dad!" he pressed out between clenched teeth. The skin of his face and neck quickly turned an angry red. A few doorknobs rattled ominously behind them. Harry recognised the signs for what they were; he had blown things up countless times when he had been really angry.

Hermione rushed forward and opened the door to an old storage room. The boys shoved Ron in and Hermione shut and locked it with several locking and silencing charms. "Let him rant," she said sorrowfully. "It will be for the best. We will look after him after Charms, Professor Flitwick surely will understand …"

The others reluctantly agreed. Harry really didn't want to leave Ron alone right now, but with that test in Charms he had no real choice. Flitwick could excuse one student, but not a whole bunch.

Hermione seemed to read his thoughts. "I don't like it, either," she muttered darkly. "But it's the only thing we can do right now. Oh, how I _hate_ that Umbridge!" Her temper was reaching new heights and her bushy hair seemed to flare out even more. "She couldn't have waited another week, could she?"

Harry said bye to Ginny and dragged his irate friend to Charms. Seamus looked crestfallen and muttered the whole time about the great comeback Umbridge had managed. They met Dean, Neville, Lavender and Parvati at a crossing and walked with them to their first lesson.

"Oh, I understand completely," squeaked Professor Flitwick after Harry had told him what had happened. "He can do the test later, of course." His otherwise very friendly face contorted in anger. "It's a shame what that woman is willing to do! Arthur will find his way back, I'm sure!"

Comforted that Ron and his family had friends Harry took his seat and waited for the test to come.

In the course of their double period Flitwick called every student and told them some things to perform. As predicted the DA members had no problems at all, and seeing that it was a pure Gryffindor class everybody passed with an Outstanding. Flitwick winked at them and gave them all Ice Mice and Chocolate Frogs.

In Herbology Neville had to save the honour of the Gryffindors. Madam Sprout made another oral pop quiz. Luckily for them she was content to just hear the answer from someone of the respective houses. It was a thing between Neville and Hermione, mainly. The Hufflepuffs regarded them with some compassion and expressed their dislike for Umbridge after the lesson.

"Shouldn't we look after Ron?" Harry asked Hermione when they hurried in to go to their DADA classroom.

"There's no time," she said guiltily. "Blackadder has become a bit suspicious lately … We have to be at least punctual."

"I know … but I at least should go. Tell her I had to talk to Dumbledore. If she doesn't buy it – Forget it. Just tell her, okay?"

"But–"

But Harry didn't listen. He turned on his heel and stormed back the way they had come up. The way down to the Great Hall and the storage room was too long for his liking. He had to see Ron, now. What kind of a friend was he to let him rot there for hours without talking to him?

Angry at himself he walked even faster, shoving students out of his way.

The hallway was empty. Harry raised his wand and started to chant the counter spells to Hermione's charms and spells, when the door opened silently. Dumbledore's bright blue eyes peered down at him, and a gentle smile greeted him.

"Do come in, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I believe Mr Weasley has calmed down now."

"Thank you, Sir," panted Harry. He rushed in and found Ron sitting on an old table.

"I'll go now. Harry, you and Ron are excused from Defence against the Dark Arts." Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, and then he stepped out and closed the door softly behind him.

"Oh god, Ron, I'm so sorry!" said Harry, rushing to his friend. "We really didn't want to leave you here, but we had to go to Charms; Flitwick said you can do the test later, and Sprout didn't say anything at all–"

"It's okay, Harry," sighed Ron. "It's just, you know, they just fired my dad. He has to leave the Ministry on January the first." He snorted. And since his vacation starts on Monday it hardly matters, anyway."

"It's Umbridge's doing," growled Harry. "I read the stupid article, and she boasted about her campaign against Muggles, non-human magical creatures and half breeds. How stupid can someone get?!"

"I read the article, too, and they said nothing about Percy. The git stays where he is, kissing some idiot's ass." Ron was looking livid, but he seemed to be too exhausted to become really angry. "I don't even know why mom cries about him anymore."

Harry noticed quite a few smashed chairs in the corner. He smiled crookedly. "At least you got to vent some anger," he said.

"Dumbledore came after some time and told me that the Order would help my dad for the time being. Dumbledore even decided to start an anti-Umbridge campaign. He should get quite a bit of support, seeing that almost a third of our population is half breeds and over the half is Muggle born." He sighed deeply and raked his long fingers through his hair. "How can one single person wreak so much havoc?"

"In a way she's even worse than Voldemort," agreed Harry wholeheartedly. "I mean, she's doing it on a _legal_ basis, and no one can stop her right now. Dumbledore and the others must gather their wits first."

"And the worst is that Fudge is playing along," mumbled Ron. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's supporting You-Know-Who secretly."

"Secretly?" snorted Harry. "I find it rather obvious."

"Umbridge has it coming," predicted Ron darkly. "If she doesn't watch out, some half breed will show her what it means to be on the black list."

"I hope she'll get it soon," said Harry. "Dumbledore is powerful, and people like him. Almost everyone under sixty went to school with him as teacher, didn't they? I don't know what possibilities they have but I bet Umbridge won't celebrate her power for very long."

"I promised Dumbledore to help the Order with the planning," said Ron, a lot calmer than before. "I had to vow that I won't go after her and tear her apart … well, I can live with that. If she gets kicked hard enough for her crimes I'll be satisfied."

They were silent for a while, contemplating the new situation. Their hate for Umbridge was almost tangible in the small room.

"Well, are you up to go to lunch?" Harry asked. "Or facing Malfoy?"

"If the git dares to make fun of me I'll hex him into a bloody pulp!" growled Ron viciously. "He's better keeping his big mouth shut."

"Then come, the bell will ring soon, anyway." Harry hopped from the table and opened the door.

Ron stretched. "Thanks for being there, mate," he said quietly.

"I wasn't–"

"Yes, you were. I talked a good deal with Dumbledore, and it helped a lot to understand what's going on, but talking with you is like … I don't know … brotherly companionship."

Harry smiled. "Thanks."

"I'm starving," said Ron, successfully destroying the emotional moment. "You dragged me from breakfast, after all."

"Then let's go. This way we'll have an advantage over Malfoy."

Ron nodded, and together they left the storage room. The Great Hall was empty and the tables were completely bare. It was a truly peaceful sight. They settled at the Gryffindor table and let their eyes wander for a few moments.

"It's strange, don't you think?" Ron asked calmly. "I mean, how quickly the time is passing. Just one more year and we'll already be studying for our finals …"

"Yeah, just one more year," agreed Harry softly. "I'm curious what will happen then. Life, friendships, Voldemort …"

'Love' hung in the air, but neither boy spelled it out. Harry was wishing for his one, true love, that he knew for sure. The first time a girl opened his eyes had been the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Parvati had been ecstatic because she had been the date of the Boy Who Lived _and_ the girl who was together with the school champion _and_ one of four girls who danced the first dance. And Cho hadn't been any better.

He decided it wasn't that strange that he liked blondes a bit better now. Both girls had dark hair, and he didn't associate a lot of good memories with that characteristic right now.

"Do you think we'll both find someone while we are in school?" Ron asked him.

"I don't know," replied Harry truthfully, staring up to the round owl window under the roof of the Great Hall. "It would be nice, but I honestly don't believe that someone in Hogwarts would like me."

"Are you kidding? Everybody who isn't in Slytherin likes you – a bit. Blaise is the big exception, but then again there are always black sheep," said Ron, staring at him in disbelief. He then chuckled softly. "But I guess I just don't understand you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you always had the attention although you didn't even want it, and I, I have craved it. With six siblings, no surprise, but still … and here we are again. You want someone who likes you, and there are masses of girls who would take you this instant."

"But they see what everybody sees," insisted Harry. "Don't you think they see the scar and the green eyes and nothing else? What would I be without my scar? What would _you_ be without your brothers?"

"It's weird. We each have what the other wants," said Ron lightly. "But I wouldn't have it any other way, I think." He sighed. "It is how it is."

"I just want someone who would love me even if I were a Muggle," said Harry determinedly. "Without the whole ruckus about my scar, and the way I fly and the other rubbish."

"Good luck then, mate," said Ron. "You'll certainly need it."

"You don't believe me, do you?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Oh, I do. But I, unlike you, would use the fame to my advantage." He shrugged. "We're different."

Harry left it at that, not wishing to argue with Ron right now. To some extent he could understand him, but he himself could never do that.

The bell rang, and suddenly the ghostly silent castle was alive with noises; feet stepped on stone and wood, students talked and shouted. The tables filled with plates and cutlery and glasses.

"I wonder what the elves will serve today," said Ron. "I'm really starving."

Choosing exactly that moment, the House Elves filled bowls and dishes with meatloaves, potatoes, vegetables, jugs with pumpkin juice, milk or water, and trays with loads of chocolate cakes appeared.

"They love us," grinned Ron. "Ooh, this is so great …" He started to fill his plate with everything he could reach and immediately dug in.

Harry stared at him; once again astounded by how fast and how much this boy was able to eat. He stayed still, just watching Ron eat and occasionally looking at people that slowly filed in. Soft footsteps, however, woke him from his reverie.

"Look who's eating so peacefully," Malfoy's cold voice drawled.

Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle next to him sneered.

"I bet after your father has to clear his office your family will be forced to beg, Weasley. You are probably right to stuff in as much as you can before you're kicked out." His cold eyes showed no emotion, but his lips curled in an amused grin. He shook his head slightly. "Now you see what you get for associating with Muggles."

"I don't see why you're feeling so big today, Malfoy," Harry cut in sharply. "After all, Umbridge just banished the law for Muggle protection and practically threw wizarding ethics out of the window."

"Umbridge is worth a shit," said Malfoy contemptuously. "All I wanted was Weasley fired." Glee showed in his voice, but both Harry's and Pansy's close proximity seemed to make him uneasy.

"And why is that, Malfoy?" Harry asked, standing up slowly, blatantly playing with his wand. "Isn't it enough that the Weasleys are one of the thousands of families that aren't as rich as yours?" He snorted softly. "I'm glad to hear that it isn't about money this time, Malfoy, but I wonder what ever will be enough for you."

Pansy clung to Malfoy's arm. "Draco is worth thousands of you, Potter! He doesn't need to hear your shit!"

Malfoy shook her off rather violently. "Actually, Parkinson, I want to hear it." He smirked at Harry and brushed a loose strand of his white blond hair back. "Whether it is about my hair, or my father, or his pathetic beliefs concerning politics and money." His voice became ice cold. "After all, no one speaks truer to you than your enemy. Isn't that so, Potter?"

"You bet it is," smirked Harry. "I said I like your hair better without all that vile stuff. That's true."

"No, it's _not_!" screeched Pansy hysterically. "I _love_ his hair the way it is!"

Harry just ignored her. "I also said that you're an arrogant prick. That's also true. And when I say that you have the poorest taste of all regarding entertainment, then it is not only true but I'm also damn right in my opinion."

"Unfortunately you are indeed right, Potter," drawled Malfoy in an unnervingly uncaring voice. "It isn't as satisfactory as I had hoped. Now chasing Umbridge up and down the Ministry will have to do …"

"Now you've proven you have at least _some_ sense of taste, Malfoy," said Harry mock-approvingly. "Good boy." He squeezed Ron's shoulder hard to keep him down. His friend shook in his seat with suppressed rage and he would have bruises later on. Right now it was all about control and coolness, though, and Harry was willing to pay the price.

"Just because I'm against Umbridge, I'm a good boy?" Malfoy sneered.

Harry shrugged carelessly. "Maybe there's still some hope for you, ferret-boy."

Malfoy snorted. "As if. And I'll tell you something else, Potter: I will always be better than you. The day you beat me in potions will be the day I'm a good boy and nice to the weasel."

"Oh please, why don't we wager something else? Are you afraid, Malfoy? How about Quidditch? Let's say, if I win against you at the next game you'll have to be nice to Ron for one week. And I mean nice, not merely avoid him."

Malfoy snorted softly. "You're so predictable, Potter. But, well ... and if I win you'll have to declare in front of the whole school that I'm superior to you. In everything."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I would even style your hair, Malfoy, if that was the wager. Besides, you aren't very inventive, either."

"The bet is on!" said Pansy loudly, attracting even more attention than their quarrel already had.

Harry stuck out his hand in determination. "If you are on, Malfoy, then take it."

The blonde hesitated.

"Come on, be a man for once, Ferret," taunted Ron viciously. "Or are you afraid all of a sudden?"

"Shut your trap, Weasel," hissed Malfoy. He grabbed Harry's hand and squeezed it hard. "We're on, Potter. And no dirty tricks."

At this Harry laughed him in the face. "That's rich," he gasped, "Coming from you–"

"Very funny, Potter!" spat Malfoy. He yanked his hand out of Harry's grasp and turned around sharply. "Out of the way, Mudblood!"

Hermione let him pass without bothering for a clever retort. Crabbe and Goyle grinned stupidly, but Pansy was fuming and muttering curses under her breath. She was getting even angrier when Malfoy yelled at her for trying to take his hand.

"What did he want this time?" she asked in bewilderment. "Did you _wager_ on something?"

"Oh, just Quidditch," said Ron, collecting himself.

"Now I'm calmed," she muttered.

"Actually he came to gloat," said Harry mirthfully, wiping a tear from his eyes. "But I guess we got a little off track …"

Hermione raised her infamous eyebrow. But instead of provoking a fight about it she just muttered, "Boys!" and sat down.

After lunch they met Hagrid at his hut. Slytherins and Gryffindors crowded around it, shivering in the cold. Hagrid stepped out of his hut, together with Fang.

"Terday we will work with Pegasi. I dunno if it's ter cold fer yer ter fly on 'em, but we'll give it a shot."

He waved them over to a paddock and whistled sharply. Just a minute later six huge, winged horses descended from the thick clouds and landed with an audible thump in the snow. Little clumps of the white mass were flying everywhere.

"Uuuh!" said Lavender.

"Those Pegasi are patient an' friendly," explained Hagrid proudly. "Who wants ter try first?"

Harry stepped forward without thinking. Surprisingly Malfoy did, too.

"You're not the only one who can pet a beast, Potter," the blonde snarled quietly.

"Wonderful," replied Harry indifferently.

Other students stepped forward as well. Hagrid assigned two or three students for one Pegasus, and unfortunately Harry had to share with Malfoy.

"You can go first," said Harry when it became apparent that neither wanted to make the first move.

Malfoy just shrugged and stepped up to the Pegasus. Its huge, brown eyes watched him, but Malfoy just stretched his hand out and let it be sniffed. Harry had an eye on the two but the Pegasus was obviously content to be petted by Malfoy. He let him.

"Won' he let yer have a go?" Hagrid asked after a while.

"No, it's alright. At least this time it won't rip his arm off," scoffed Harry.

Malfoy threw him a death glare. "For the record, we have Pegasi at the Malfoy stables, Potter," he said acidly.

"Good, then yer can take a ride, Malfoy," said Hagrid, completely unfazed by the harsh tone.

Malfoy shrugged. He petted the Pegasus, grabbed the long, white mane and swung elegantly onto its back in one, fluid motion. With gentle prods in its flanks he urged it into a trot down the free field. Pansy cooed in awe at his elegance, and even Harry couldn't find fault in that.

"Wow, he didn't lie," said Harry, impressed when the Pegasus took off the field in full speed gallop. Malfoy sat on its back like a prince.

Hagrid nodded. "An' he's a good rider, too."

When Malfoy landed Hagrid awarded Slytherin ten points. After Malfoy the others tried to ride the Pegasi but preferred to stay on earth. Harry, of course, just had to try it, and jumped on the beast's back, much like Malfoy had done it before. He was very grateful for the muscles he had gained over the summer, because the Pegasus was huge. The wings were miraculously out of his way though.

"I've never been on a horse before," called Harry to Hagrid when he was seated on the Pegasus' bare back. "What do I have to do now?"

"Oh for the love of–," mumbled Malfoy, rolling his eyes. "What have you been _doing_ during your summers? You can't even ride? What kind of a place is it that you live in?"

"That's hardly your concern," replied Harry smoothly.

"Pah, as if I cared." Malfoy sneered. "For beginners you could try and dig your heels into its flanks, Potter. That will be fun." His smirk could have lightened Knockturn Alley, but Harry chose to ignore him.

"Well, let's try it out," he muttered. He prodded his heels into the Pegasus' sides. With a soft snort it started to go.

"Good, 'Arry. Make it go faster," boomed Hagrid.

Harry grabbed fistfuls of the white mane and urged the Pegasus on. The gallop was completely different from the choppy hop Hippogriffs had. It was smooth and fast. For support Harry tucked his feet under the joints of the wings.

"Whoa!" he cried when the Pegasus took it as an order to fly. With a swoosh it took off and climbed higher and higher into the air. "Slow down, pal," said Harry when they had reached a height of roughly one hundred feet. He tried to use the mane as reins. It worked quite well, but he had no idea how he should make it go down again. "Well, I suppose I could enjoy the view first," he muttered.

He tried several things, such as steering it by tugging at the mane. Then, per chance, he found out that he could slow down or speed up with the pressure his heels applied, and that he could make it go higher and lower when he put his feet under the wings or on the joints. After almost ten minutes he had found a rough guideline and whooped with joy as he flew funny figures in the air.

But the lesson neared its end, and Harry noticed quite ashamedly that he had occupied the Pegasus all for himself. He steered it down and landed – to his relief it was a smooth landing, and he could grab the thick mane as hard as he wanted, too.

"I'm so sorry," he panted as soon as the Pegasus had touched the ground. "I didn't want to – didn't know how to steer it …"

His classmates goggled at him. Other than Harry and Malfoy, only Ron had dared to fly, and that only after Hagrid had put a rope around the Pegasus' neck to keep it down. Harry had seen it on his tour through the air. All of them, however, had taken a short ride.

"It's quite all right, 'Arry," said Hagrid happily. "At least yer had yer fun up there."

Harry grinned brightly and jumped off the Pegasus' back. "Thanks for the ride." He petted its nose.

"Yeah, you are a fast learner, aren't you?" said Malfoy coldly.

At least he didn't sound scornful, Harry thought happily. It had to be the first time that Malfoy had paid him a grudging compliment.

Hagrid asked him to explain how the Pegasus had wanted to be steered and Harry shared his new knowledge with the Slytherins and Gryffindors. Well, the Gryffindors listened, but Crabbe and Goyle were doodling stick figures into the snow with their child-coffin-large shoes, Millicent stared into space, Nott glowered at Hermione for reasons unknown, Blaise flirted with his boyfriend and Pansy tried once again to attach herself to Malfoy's arm.

"Ten points fer Gryffindor, too," said Hagrid, blissfully oblivious to the Slytherins' lack of attention and blatant ignorance in Pansy's case. "Class is dismissed."

The Gryffindors stayed outside to wait for Madam Hooch because they had Apparating class now. The Slytherins, however, hastened to leave the lawn. Blaise just winked at Harry and blew Seamus a kiss.

"Man, Harry. Malfoy was _so _angry that you didn't fall down and break your neck," said Ron excitedly.

"You flew very well," agreed Hermione. "For your first time, that is."

"Thank you," replied Harry.

He felt like bursting with happiness. He missed flying, and with his duties as Prefect, the DA meetings and studying in general he hadn't much time left. Therefore this little flight today had been a welcome distraction.

"Well, I was happy that that overgrown horse had a rope somewhere," said Ron, shuddering. "A broom is one thing, but that beast is quite another!"

"It reacted well to commands," said Harry. "The next time you should try it, too."

They arrived at their meeting point. Madam Hooch was already there and barking orders at Neville and Dean. Parvati, Lavender and Hermione blended into the line, tagging the boys with them.

"Okay class! This is the last lesson in Apparating this term," said Madam Hooch loudly. "I prepared a little test today, just to see how fit you are! We will test point Apparating, Apparating to a person and Apparating via map!" She clapped her hands and spread out her red blanket.

"Your honour, mate," grinned Ron.

Harry just sighed good naturedly and Apparated flawlessly onto the red blanket Madam Hooch had laid out.

"Good as always, Potter," said Madam Hooch. "Now Weasley!"

Ron appeared right behind Harry, then it was Hermione's turn. Even Neville had managed to Apparate by now, although he had had some quite nasty accidents in the past lessons. Hooch once had to call a specialist from St Mungo's to desplinch the poor boy.

But today was fun. The popping sounds of Apparating students were almost rhythmic. The Gryffindors quickly became bored after everybody had Apparated flawlessly, though. Hooch was lenient for once and let them go early. Harry thought she was muttering something about moronic Hufflepuffs and too-stupid-to-even-breathe Slytherins while he passed her by.

"And we don't even have to do homework tonight!" crowed Ron in triumph.

"Speak for yourself, Ron," said Hermione indignantly. "Harry and I have to complete another essay for Snape, and Blackadder wants a token for banishing ghosts with ill intent."

"No chess tonight, Harry?" Ron asked in a defeated voice. "I miss beating you."

"Thanks Ron, I love you, too," said Harry dryly. "But 'Mione is right. That essay for Snape is really mean." He glanced at Ron. "Don't _you_ have homework for tomorrow? Something about the uses of Stinksap or crap like that?"

"Ugh, shit, you're right!" Ron blanched. "Err, well, I think I'll just go to the library …"

Hermione sighed deeply.

The afternoon was spent in the dry air of the library. Harry racked his brain over his own homework; it wasn't easy, and Ron's moaning and bitching about Snape drove him mad. Fortunately Hermione was present to keep him from harming his best friend.

"Ron, will you kindly shut up already?" she finally snapped at him. "I swear, if you say one more word about Snape or Stinksap I'll _personally_ pummel you!"

Ron took it as valuable advice and kept silent. Harry sniggered. When Hermione was ready to pummel someone they usually were way past her tolerance level. And that was saying something.

Harry enjoyed the silence and made good use of it, too, because he was finally able to finish his own essay. Ron's whining was fun as long as his own homework wasn't affected, though.

At dinner he was finally able to let his worries about school drop for a moment. He just talked with his classmates and friends and told Ginny new tales about Apparating.

Colin, Dennis and Ginny were practically crazy for that kind of adventure and thoroughly envied the sixth years. Not that the other students from lower years weren't, but Harry didn't have the nerve to play tall tale uncle for thirty or forty younger housemates. Neither did the other sixth or seventh years for that matter. The gossip network just had to do.

Somehow the day ended utterly uneventfully. Colin took new pictures of Harry in the common room and Hermione scolded him for that again. Harry then went up to the dorm, read in his book, felt ready to drop on the spot and therefore decided to go to bed.

Ron joined him in the bathroom, and together they brushed their teeth and generally tried to communicate with grunts and gestures. Being ready for bed eventually, Harry decided that he wasn't _that_ tired anymore. Instead he decided to make a short mirror call to ask Sirius for a favour. He shut his bed hangings, spelled them safe against eavesdroppers and knocked.

Sirius was happy to see him. Apparently some members of the Order were visiting his place and keeping him company.

Harry told him he needed copies of the books he was currently reading and gave his godfather quite a list. Remus with his connections in Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley could get them easily, he knew, and Sirius assured him that he would get the books.

The other members of the Order of the Phoenix, namely Tonks, Kingsley and Moody offered their help as well. Since it was evident that Harry couldn't take books from the Restricted Section to Grimmauld Place they agreed quickly to even look up new, useful books for him as well. While teachers were not alarmed when a restricted book was taken without permission they would undoubtedly be when such a book left the Hogwarts grounds.

Harry kissed the mirror glass and laughed at Sirius' disgruntled face. They bid each other goodnight affectionately, and then, finally, Harry lay down, shut his eyes, practised a bit of Occlumency and, after a few minutes, fell asleep.

He should have known that the long silence from Voldemort had been too good to be true. In the middle of the night he was suddenly pulled into Voldemort's mind by force, and it didn't turn out to be pretty.

The Dark Lord was angry, very, _very_ angry. His hot rage flooded every crevice of Harry's mind, and it frightened him. Harry had to witness Voldemort as he tortured wizard after wizard, Death Eater after Death Eater.

It was horrible and Harry fought with all his might against Voldemort's grip on his mind. Harry had no chance at all, and apparently his mental wriggling and struggling only served to inflame Voldemort's fury even more, and he blasted his minions like rag dolls through the shabby room they had met. Blood seeped from wounds, and the stench made Harry nauseous. But Voldemort still wasn't finished. His fury turned from scalding hot to icy cold in a second, and as quickly he turned around to his most prized Death Eater.

Lucius Malfoy's eyes were staring impassively back at the Dark Lord, every strand of blond hair immaculately combed as always, falling elegantly down his shoulders and back. Harry felt the rage in Voldemort waver, and a cold, calculating feeling seeped through every fibre of Harry's being. Voldemort didn't trust easily anymore, and with a sickening burst of magic he attacked Malfoy's mind, trying to rip the wards down.

Only, there were none. Malfoy, although not seeming to be too concerned, stared apprehensively at his master, baring his thoughts voluntarily for exploration. Harry thought that would be it, Voldemort would be satisfied with his most trusted minion, the nightmare would end–

"Lucius," hissed Voldemort acidly. "Word got out about important things! Do you know anything about that? Snape wasn't here! That fool couldn't have been it! _How could that happen_?!"

"No, Master," said Malfoy coolly. "Nothing. And I have no idea, either." His eyes glided slowly over to Pettigrew who hid behind Voldemort's throne. "Only one … maybe a snivelling _rat_ searched for a new hole to hide in."

Pettigrew squeaked in fear, but Voldemort ignored it. "No," he hissed lowly. "No, it was another. A traitor; _betrayal_ in my own, _most trusted_ ranks! I will punish you for that … no one betrays me … no one will be spared …"

New anger welled up in Voldemort - Harry felt it like a hot iron poker being stabbed into his soul - and he cursed Nott so badly with the Cruciatus Curse that the man fell down motionlessly and was white as a sheet once Voldemort was finished. Nobody dared to move let alone rush to his side to help him.

"Not even you, Lucius." He looked Malfoy straight in his cold eyes, his expression grim, almost regretful. "_Especially_ not you."

With a start Harry noticed that Bellatrix Lestrange lay in a heap in the corner of the shabby, dark room, sobbing hysterically.

"Give me that," ordered Voldemort, pointing at Malfoy's left, gloved hand. Harry felt a new wave of hesitancy and remorse pass through himself. Voldemort felt sorry for something?

Malfoy took off his left glove and stoically handed it over. Harry's stomach rebelled when he saw all the faint, thin scars over the back of his hand and the elegant fingers. He felt even worse when Malfoy reached his hand out like a schoolboy who had to endure smacks on his hands for being naughty.

"Not that, not tonight," Voldemort said. He grabbed Malfoy's hand and turned it over, exposing the sensitive palm. He caressed it softly with a long, ghostly white finger.

Harry gasped and quickly tried to leave, to turn away; he couldn't look, wouldn't look; he knew exactly what was coming now, felt the anticipation grow in Voldemort, the sick mix of his pleasure in giving pain and suffering to hurt someone he felt deeply for-

But Harry was stuck in this body and couldn't free himself. Not tonight. Voldemort wanted him to see it for some perverse reason. He stared at the open palm, feeling glee rising in him like bile. And although Harry was aware those hands were perfectly capable of harming and killing, he couldn't deny that Lucius had wonderful hands.

The palm Voldemort held in his own, bony white and thin hand was big but not plump, and the long fingers slightly curled in his grasp. Harry could feel the blood sing under the silky soft skin. It was so warm against the coldness of his own hand – Voldemort's hand. Strong hand lines stared at him as if to mock him, dare him to do something, to hurt the skin they creased.

"Know who you're loyal to, Lucius," Voldemort hissed in excitement. "Know it and you shall know no pain from my hands."

He raised his wand, aimed with palpable enjoyment and then slashed the flesh with so much power that the blood literally flew everywhere. Malfoy's faint moan of pain ripped through Harry like a perverted tune, and he fled, fled, fled …

With a yowl Harry bolted upright and clutched his scar. In his sleep-clouded state he first didn't notice the strange wetness on his fingertips, but the horror came soon enough. He wiped the sticky hand on his bed sheet, staring blankly at the dark stain it left. Now he noticed that the newest dream had left its marks in reality. Just like old times.

Groaning he smeared more blood over his forehead in a useless attempt to soothe the pain. He just wanted to die, right here and now, or at least be thoroughly Obliviated. That was probably one of the most vile, disgusting things he had ever witnessed, ever. Not because of the blood but Voldemort's excitement and pleasure while torturing Lucius Malfoy.

The scar hurt like hell. Magic crackled in the air and Harry wasn't sure it was his or Voldemort's power that surrounded him. The skin around the scar prickled and itched, not to mention the splitting headache he now sported. He felt too nauseous and dizzy to stand up, but if he didn't he would bleed on his bed like a slaughtered pig. Although head wounds always bled copiously, he had no desire to run to the infirmary right now. But Hermione would be mad at him for not going to see Madam Pomfrey …

Sighing, he staggered out of his bed and into the bathroom, all the while pressing his pyjama top against the scar. A look into a mirror only confirmed that he looked twice as bad as he felt. The chill of the floor and the cold air didn't help to wake him up further. The unpleasant feeling only made him recoil even more from the harsh reality in the dead of the night. The pain was unbearable, and he was tempted to mutter and whine all the way to the sink where he wetted his pyjama top with cold water and tried to wash the scar clean.

After half an hour the bleeding slowed down at last. Harry managed to calm his panicked breathing and collect any bit of magic he could find to do a basic healing charm on the wound. He had to use his right index finger since he had left his wand on his nightstand. It was crude but fortunately worked well enough. It was just like the time he used the Lumos Charm the other night when Dudley and he had been attacked by Dementors. He had needed to find the wand and the magic had done the spell, even without the wand itself. It had saved his life.

At three in the morning Neville came in to pee, but when he saw Harry sitting exhaustedly on the floor, pale as a ghost and an angry, red scar on his forehead,he quickly forgot about that and urged him to go to the infirmary. The quantity of blood lost showed on the ruined pyjama top and trousers, even on his bare torso where the blood had dripped while he had tried to wash all the blood from the shirt.

"You need to see Madam Pomfrey," Neville insisted while he supported Harry's dead weight and shuffled with his friend through the long hallways and corridors. "I don't care how often you say that you're fine. As long as you keep passing out on me I'll drag you to the hospital wing!"

"Don't tell Dumbledore," muttered Harry. He was bundled up in a dressing gown and a cloak and had difficulty speaking clearly because he felt so terribly tired.

"Eat your chocolate," said Neville sternly. "I won't tell, but only if you eat it this instant."

Sighing, Harry forced himself to take a bite and chew it. He knew it would help him, but he really didn't feel like eating right now. Voldemort's perverted love for Malfoy could have cost the man his hand for all he knew. And as much as he disliked Lucius Malfoy, he didn't want him to lose any part of his body! He could rot in Azkaban, hell or any other unpleasant place, but he would never, ever approve of chopping off random limbs from people, because they needed those limbs in the future.

While eating the chocolate Harry became pensive. Lucius Malfoy had those scars on his hands. They were a bit like the faint lines on his right hand that still hadn't faded completely.

Umbridge still haunted him, although she was not at Hogwarts anymore. It was scary how easily a person could take over a place or life and turn everything up and around. Umbridge with her ridiculous rules, decrees and detentions, Voldemort with his megalomaniacal plans and punishments. And somehow, between feeling very ill, hungry and contemplative, he felt just a bit connected to Lucius Malfoy.

"Mr Potter again!" cried Madam Pomfrey once they had arrived at the hospital wing and rung her out of bed. "And it's your scar for a change." The sarcasm wasn't easy to miss, but Harry didn't feel up to jokes right now. "At least you've come down here this time …"

Neville said goodnight quietly and left Harry to his fate, knowing that he wouldn't get his friend back tonight. Pomfrey started to dab at the scar with her gloved fingers and asked several questions.

"Did you take any kind of potions before you went to sleep? Did you eat something unusual? Have you been throwing up? Did you lose a lot of blood? Do you feel dizzy right now? Do you have a headache?"

Harry answered them monotonously with monosyllabic words.

"No. No. No, yes, yes, yes …"

She finally left him alone, applied some salve, cast a charm and then handed him a restoring potion for the blood loss and yet more chocolate.

"You'll stay the night and you'll down all of this," she ordered. "I don't care in which order. Just take it all and then try to sleep. Will you need a sleeping draught?"

"No," mumbled Harry, feeling very tired now.

Pomfrey gave him new pyjamas and ushered him to a bed. She even drew the hangings around him.

Suddenly Harry was grateful for the solitude. At least she didn't ask nosy questions as Ron would have, or even Dumbledore. But he still had that pounding headache and briefly he felt like hexing her for not offering any painkiller potion.

But by now, after some very long hours in the Advanced Potions class, he knew that most of the painkillers interfered with restoring potions, and Madam Pomfrey had made up her mind about priority, alright. Not that Harry disagreed, but the pain made him irritable and intolerant.

He also thought that he couldn't sleep, at least not after that nightmare, but when he had eaten the chocolate and downed the potion he felt the exhaustion more than ever. The scenes replayed in his head, over and over again. Voldemort cursing his men and women to bits, Malfoy's palm, open and vulnerable, and the sickening slash of magic against warm, living flesh …

But finally the loss of blood and sleep caught up to him. He only barely managed to erect his imaginary walls around his body before he passed out cold.

Madam Pomfrey let him sleep through History of Magic and Divination, something Harry was quite grateful for. Not only did he feel better but he had also legitimately missed two lessons of the most boring subjects on his timetable. Hermione came to visit him right after her Arithmancy lesson and made a huge fuss over him.

"Oh, Harry!" she cried worriedly. "I heard from Neville what happened and I was so _worried_ when you didn't show up for breakfast or History … what did Voldemort do this time?"

She settled on his bed and petted his hand as if he were a dying man. Harry rolled his eyes. "I felt like shit last night but I'm okay now. Really. I'll show you my dream later, you don't want to see it before lunch," he said reassuringly.

Hermione waved her wand threateningly. "How dare that, that _snake_ attack you in the middle of the night! If he was here I would hex his balls off, and then carve a nice pattern into his bony ass–"

"He has no balls," Harryinterrupted her rant.

Hermione stopped mid-word and stared at him blankly. But true to her usually imperturbable self she recovered rather quickly.

"_However_," she finally said calmly, stressing it, "I will make him pay for that. One way or another. Doesn't he know that you have _classes_? You could fail your NEWTs because you missed those lessons!" Then, after a pause. "He really has no balls? _Good_! Then he can't produce new, little Voldemorts. How wonderful."

Harry just groaned and buried his head in his pillow. He really wanted to smack her with it, but Hermione didn't take things like that lightly, unfortunately. When she became sarcastic then there was no way around it.

"Ah, Miss Granger," said Madam Pomfrey in a way of greeting. How good of you to come. Did you bring some clothes for Mr Potter?"

Hermione nodded and produced jeans, boxers, socks, a shirt and a pullover. Only now he noticed that she had also draped his cloak around her shoulders. She took it off now, however, and handed him the pile. Harry realized that the clothes he had worn last night had to be Neville's, then.

"Thanks," he mumbled. Both women turned around to grant him some privacy while he changed.

"Mr Potter, I want you to rest as much as you can. I'll give you a note for Professor McGonagall so you don't have to do the more difficult spells," said Pomfrey when he was finished and standing. "You should be completely fine by tomorrow."

Harry took the note, thanked her, and quickly left together with Hermione. He was ravenous and needed some food. Hermione seemed to sense his misery because she led him down to the kitchen without a word.

"Harry Potter is visiting Dobby!" cried Dobby happily when they entered the large kitchen.

Other elves stopped what they were doing and looked over to them. Some already shuffled closer, ready to serve.

"Harry here is a bit hungry," said Hermione. "Would you please give him some breakfast?"

"Of course, of course!" said Dobby eagerly. He clapped his little hands and ushered the other elves to work. Just seconds later a table was set and dishes were filled with piles of toast, waffles, pancakes, scrambled eggs and porridge. Jam and syrup glistened in beautifully shaped glass jars and carafes.

"Thanks, Dobby," said Harry, pouncing on his food like a starved wolf. "Oh, this is _so_ good! If I could I would take you to my own home …"

The elves smiled, clearly flattered. Hermione just sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee. Watching Harry stuff himself seemed to be oddly calming for her because her eyelids drooped a bit and she gnawed on her lower lip.

Harry needed almost an hour before he was satisfied. No one had ever finished what the elves had cooked, but he had come quite close. Beaming, he thanked Dobby and the other elves.

"We elves like to live in Hogwarts," squeaked Dobby. "Even Winky is working hard now." He leaned closer. "But she's still drinking sometimes," he muttered, shaking his head.

"For the love of–," hissed Hermione angrily. "It wasn't _her_ fault! I'm sure she'll come around eventually."

Harry just grinned and waved the helpful elves goodbye.

"Now tell me," said Hermione once they were wandering back, out of the dungeons. "What, exactly, did you dream about?"

"Do you really want to know?" Harry asked doubtfully.

"Yes. Knowing and seeing are two different things. Neville told me a bit, but he didn't know anything more than that it was something about Voldemort."

"He was angry last night," said Harry quietly. "And he pulled me in. I had no choice. I don't know why, but he wanted me to see how he kicked his people around." He swallowed past a lump in his throat. "He even punished Malfoy. I believe the reason was some information that leaked through."

"Does he suspect–"

"Snape?" Harry snorted in bitter amusement. "You bet. But he said he couldn't be the culprit because he wasn't even there when the information was discussed. That left his precious Inner Circle, and they all got some last night."

"Oh no, he will kill him," said Hermione tightly. "I mean, he suspects Snape, and even if Snape is good at Occlumency, he lives under Dumbledore's nose. _Of course_ Voldemort doesn't trust him."

"Yeah, he might tolerate him because he can spy on us, but it's getting difficult now." Harry contemplated the nightmare, shivering slightly. "And I really wonder who the traitor is."

"Wormtail?"

"No. Voldemort already excluded him. Nott might be dead. Bellatrix is loyal to the core. That leaves Avery, Crabbe, Goyle, the Parkinsons, Narcissa Malfoy and some others …"

"What about _Lucius_ Malfoy?" asked Hermione. "Why do you think _he's_ loyal?"

Harry leaned a bit closer to her. "Because Voldemort used Legilimency on him. There were no wards, and that means Malfoy has no secrets." He shrugged. "Of course he might be so good at Occlumency that he can deceive even Voldemort, but that would mean he's better than Snape." He shuddered. "And I don't want to think about someone who's better than Snape with that ability."

"Well, I guess you're right," said Hermione in a defeated voice. "But who would betray Voldemort? I just don't get it."

"I find it more disturbing that I didn't hear _what_ has gotten out. It might be a new trap. Why would he want me to see his prized minions punished? It's all very suspicious …," muttered Harry darkly.

Brooding they walked to Gryffindor Tower to get Harry's stuff for Transfiguration. Hermione insisted that she was all right and able to see the dream now but Harry took the Dream Catcher away and put it in his trunk.

"Not before lunch. You'll thank me later, believe me."

Hermione scowled but kept her objections to herself. She knew exactly how stubborn Harry could be and in most cases he was right, too.

"Fine," she gave in finally. "But right after Transfiguration you'll show me!"

"We have another half an hour until lunch," said Harry, changing the subject. "Do you want to go somewhere and try the spell again? Maybe you'll get your apple to change this time."

Hermione scowled. "It better. You are just lucky today because you're a bit under the weather. You wouldn't do it a second time."

"No?" Harry chuckled. Hermione was so cute when she got all competitive. "Let's try it out, then."

"You can't," she said, raising her eyebrow.

"I shouldn't," corrected Harry. He opened the door to an empty classroom and steered Hermione in.

"Oh, well," she huffed. "But we take real apples, no transfigured ones."

Harry just smirked and called Dobby to ask for two apples.

"If I'm doing it again you'll correct my homework for Potions. If you win you can ask me for a favour, too. But nothing perverted or obscene."

"You're on," said Hermione in determination, drawing her wand and glaring at the poor apple.

Later, on their way to lunch, Hermione was scowling intensely. Harry snickered at her misery and couldn't help but wave his wand playfully. Some younger students quickly got out of their way, fearing to be hexed or jinxed.

"I don't know what's wrong!" she nearly yelled in frustration. "I never, _ever_ had problems with transfigurations of any kind before!"

"Not only transfigurations," said Harry thoughtfully. "I remember that your spell work wasn't that great, either. You know, at the last DA meeting."

"I wonder if it's a disease or something like that," muttered Hermione, looking at her wand distrustfully.

"Well, you could ask McGonagall about it," offered Harry. "Or Flitwick."

"I will. This is so damn annoying," said Hermione in a huff.

Harry opened the portal to the Great Hall. A lot of students were already seated at their house tables, most of them already eating and generally chatting and laughing. Out of habit Harry surveyed the four tables, watching the students, looking at friends and enemies. Malfoy already sat there, and their eyes met. An unpleasant sneer spread over Malfoy's face, and he made a theatrical movement with his hand, as if rubbing his scar. Harry scowled at him, countering the mean little show with a casual rub over his left forearm. With satisfaction he watched as Malfoy's smirk vanished and he instead scowled himself.

"Leave it, Harry," whispered Hermione. "People are starting to watch … come on, let's go over to the others …"

She dragged him to the Gryffindor table and seated him firmly. Harry didn't object. That he had gotten to Malfoy was triumph enough for one day, and he had a feeling that he had better not push his luck. Besides, Hermione was still fairly unhappy at having to look through his essay for Snape, and he really didn't want to mess with her.

"Hey, Harry! How are you now?" Dennis Creevey asked.

"Fine," replied Harry. "It was just a bad dream."

Neville pulled a face. Harry didn't need to do Legilimency on his friend to understand why he frowned, given the amount of blood he had seen last night. 'Bad dream' clearly wasn't the term _Neville_ would have used to describe the event.

Ron threw him a meaningful glance and spared him his usual, hot-tempered rant. Instead he started a conversation about the next Quidditch game that would take place in late January. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw would fight for points, although it was painfully clear that, in reality, Ravenclaw and Slytherin would compete for the right to challenge Gryffindor in the last match of the year. Hufflepuff needed a miracle to win as many points as they needed to outrun both Slytherin and Ravenclaw.

Harry let himself be pulled into the discussion. It was easier to debate about points than ponder why Voldemort had wanted him to see how his minions suffered but not explained why.

The meal was unimportant to Harry. It certainly was delicious, had he only tasted it. But he had been thinking so hard that he forgot everything else. Even Quidditch couldn't hold his attention for very long.

When the others were finished Hermione prodded him subtly to make him aware of his surroundings. Together they wandered to the Transfigurations classroom. Ginny and Dean kissed at a crossing and departed. Ron didn't comment – he had obviously seen how foolish his actions had been so far and decided to not embarrass himself further.

McGonagall told them at the beginning of her lesson that they would work on the apple-to-tree-transfiguration all week so that everybody was able to get a decent mark. Harry, who had done the task just one hour ago without difficulty stuffed Madam Pomfrey's note into his pocket and smirked at Hermione who scowled at him fiercely.

"_Desarrolar Arbola_!" The sound rang through the classroom, shouted by Ravenclaws and Gryffindors alike.

Harry's apple changed swiftly into an impressive tree, and Professor McGonagall proudly awarded him ten points. Ron's apple sprouted leaves at weird places while Neville's got tiny legs and jumped off the table to scurry under McGonagall's desk. Terry's apple simple refused to change, it even shrank back from his wand. A little explosion from further down the classroom indicated that Dean had forgotten the right wand movement and blown his apple into pieces. Luna, who sat next to him, just waved her wand dreamily and banished the mess. Her own small tree was somewhat curly and gnarled; it obviously represented her magic and personality.

Hermione next to him cursed in every language she knew. Her wand simply refused to do any magic, and she was growing more and more frustrated thus lessening the chances to do it right even more.

McGonagall walked through the classroom, observing their work. Astoundingly enough she didn't comment on Hermione's poor work today, just glided over to Parvati and Padma who rather preferred playing Hang Man to doing their task.

"Do you want to try it with my wand?" offered Harry in the second period. "Here, take it."

Hermione looked doubtful, and not just a little bit scared. "Harry, do you know just how _much_ magic has to flow through your wand to do any spells?" she asked. "I'm not sure I can use this wand."

"Just try it, it's better than nothing," encouraged Harry. He took Hermione's wand and regarded it curiously. "I really wonder if it's your wand or something else."

"Yeah, me too," replied Hermione sourly. "_Desarrolar Arbola_!"

The apple jumped a bit and sprouted some roots and twigs, but nothing more. Hermione frowned.

"I don't have the magic to fill the channels of your wand. They're too wide for me," she said. "Where do you get so much power?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. Your channels are narrower …" He grinned. "May I have a go with it?"

"Sure, have fun," said Hermione, placing Harry's wand back on the table.

Harry raised the wand dramatically, not taking the situation seriously. "_Desarrolar Arbola_!" he said loudly, aiming at the poor, unsuspecting apple.

With a loud BANG a tree crashed up into the air, growing and growing until it grazed the ceiling, and it grew even further, pressing against the high ceiling, splitting it under the pressure.

"_Finite_!" cried Harry quickly, letting the tree vanish with a sharp, whipping noise.

McGonagall stormed up to their table, glaring at them, breathing hard from the shock she just had had. "Mr Potter ," she grated out. "What did you do _this_ time?"

Harry looked up guiltily. "Well, Hermione had problems with her wand, so I gave her mine and took hers to try out if it was her magic or her wand."

McGonagall took a very deep breath. It looked as if she was counting to ten. Several times.

"And you just used her wand? That was very, very foolish, Mr Potter." McGonagall paced in front of them, unaware of the other students that watched the scene with rapt attention. "Mr Potter, in case you still haven't noticed: you are aquite powerful young man, and there is a reason that wizards don't exchange wands very often."

She took his wand and examined it shortly. "I see. Your channels that guide your magic are wide, wider than in most wands. They make sure you're not able to put too much strength into your spells and charms." She gave his wand back and took Hermione's instead. "This wand, however, has quite narrow channels for precise work."

Students looked at her with anticipation as she gave the wand back to Hermione and pushed her glasses back up her nose.

"_Of course_ doing a spell with Miss Granger's wand would have had that result. Your power, Mr Potter, literally shot out of the wand, with much more focus than usual. I advise you strongly to at least feel the channels of a wand before you borrow one. The best would be for you not to borrow one at all."

"Yes, Professor," he said quietly.

"I won't take points this time," continued McGonagall sternly. "But only because I believe you two didn't know better. Don't do that again."

"Yes, Professor," both said, feeling bad for doing such mischief, however unintentionally.

Professor McGonagall turned away and resumed her stalking and observing. Harry leaned over to Hermione.

"At least we know now that it has to be your wand. The spell worked with mine as well as possible."

"I'll ask Professor McGonagall after this lesson," whispered Hermione back. "She'll know for sure."

Harry repaired the ceiling with a swish of his wand, but the remaining thirty minutes were spent in utmost boredom. Harry didn't want to transfigure his apple again, or transfigure anything at all for that matter, and Hermione refrained from trying. Harry had the suspicion that she was getting worse at doing magic with every passing minute.

Finally the bell rang. Hermione jumped eagerly up, stuffing her things into her bag and rushing to Professor McGonagall's desk. Unfortunately a third year Gryffindor was faster than she. He stumbled into the room and immediately occupied the professor.

"Professor McGonagall, you need to come to the fourth floor immediately!" the boy cried. "A Slytherin is trapped with Marlena Simmons and wants to kiss her, but she refuses and now he wants to …" He trailed off, blushing a deep crimson. But it didn't lessen the urgent plea in his eyes and voice, and Professor McGonagall immediately rushed to his aid.

"Lead the way, Brookforth," she said brusquely. "Those Slytherins! Wait until I get Severus Snape for this …" Muttering angrily she stormed out, following the boy and leaving a crestfallen Hermione behind.

"But-," she whined.

"Later, Miss Granger, later," called McGonagall back.

Harry just shrugged. "Well, it seems you'll just have to wait until tomorrow. Or you can go to another teacher. They're all counselling. You could go to Flitwick, or Sprout, or Sinistra, even Snape. Just pick one."

"I guess I could ask someone tonight, after the staff meeting. Tuesdays are simply mad, Harry, you know that. No one has ever any time!" Hermione sighed deeply and ran a hand through her bushy hair.

"Tonight," promised Harry. "I'll help you to find someone."

Hermione smiled gratefully. "Well then, let's get your essay corrected. I hope you at least _attempted_ to do it right."

"Of course," replied Harry, affronted. "I do want to use my brain, you know?"

"How about showing that from time to time?" she teased and fled from the room, Harry in tow.

Ron met them at the staircase. "Guess what I just heard? It's Goyle, _again_! This time he wanted to kiss Marlena, but her friends were able to keep him off until McGonagall came. I could hear her screaming even down here – Goyle lost one hundred points and now he has detention for a month!"

"Has he lost his mind?" raved Hermione. "That stupid prick should learn to behave!"

Harry frowned. "He's really been losing his marbles lately. I wonder if he even _wants_ to stay at Hogwarts. He'll be expelled for sure if he continues this way."

"The DA will watch out for them," said Ron confidently. "But those sprigs of mistletoe are making things difficult, don't you think? They could lurk in every corner and wait for victims."

Hermione shuddered. "Could we please go up now? I have some things to do before the staff meeting." She stared at Harry accusingly.

"Oh, come on, you were the one who was all for it," retorted Harry smugly.

Ron sniggered at Hermione's misfortune – McGonagall's words in class had been a shock to most of them, though. Harry already had a suspicion about what Hermione's problem was. But he wanted to see her sweat a bit longer. It was she who was supposed to know everything, after all. And if she wasn't figuring it out on her own then she deserved the little jibe at her pride.

"Let's do our homework," snapped Hermione, stepping determinedly on the stairs. "We have some other things to do tonight, Harry."

"Too true, unfortunately," sighed Harry. "Come on, Ron. Let's see if Marlena is still in one piece. Poor girl."

They clambered up the stairs and entered the Gryffindor common room. They immediately spotted Marlena Simmons who was surrounded by a group of boys and girls who all comforted her and growled about Goyle.

"It's driving me nuts," muttered Ron angrily. "I mean, she's thirteen for Merlin's sake!"

"Don't think about it now," said Hermione tightly. "Watch out for him. And I'd appreciate it if you'd kick Slytherin's ass in the next match."

Harry and Ron went into their dorm to retrieve stuff and books. The Dream Catcher gleamed in the weak light, and Harry wondered when Hermione would want to see his dream.

He didn't ask her, of course. Sitting in the common room, in front of the fire and next to Angelina, Kathie, Alicia and Lee, who were cramming for their NEWT exams, was somehow relaxing.

Quills scratched over parchment, book pages rustled every now and then, and sometimes the girls asked a question or discussed something quietly. It was the best atmosphere for homework Harry possibly had ever had. He finished all his essays for the week, and Hermione didn't need very long to look through his homework for Potions. She was obviously satisfied, pointing out only some minor things to him.

"You know," she said finally, "if Snape wouldn't be such a bastard half of the time you could have passed your OWL exam with an Above Average."

"Tell him that," muttered Harry grumpily. "It won't change the fact that he hates me."

"No, probably not," agreed Hermione, but her lips were twitching meaningfully.

"Dinner time," said Ron in relief. "Come on, let's go. I've had enough of homework for the rest of the week!"

"Very funny, Ron," said Alicia sourly.

Ron ignored her and bounded out of the common room, not even waiting for Hermione and Harry. Harry figured that his friend really must be hungry, not that this surprised any of his friends.

Hermione pocketed her wand, not without another distrustful glance at it, and then motioned Harry to come along. The two made it down the hallways and stairs without problems. The Slytherins were strangely quiet, obviously because of Goyle's stupid attempt to molest another student. They met Blaise and Seamus on their way. Blaise looked very pale and shaken but also very determined.

Harry didn't try to talk to him. Blaise had Seamus now and if it was really important he would come to him, anyway. He knew that. One didn't date a Gryffindor without ties. Of course that worked the other way, too. But right now Slytherin didn't have very much to offer, and Blaise was really uncomfortable to be associated with Crabbe's and Goyle's thick headedness.

"Oh no, look, Harry," said Hermione when they reached the main portal that led to the Great Hall.

She pointed at the glass pillars with the little colourful stones in it. Slytherin's house points were dangerously low; McGonagall and Dumbledore must have taken a lot of points for the incident. Rightfully, Harry thought, but nonetheless crushing for Slytherin. Snape certainly wasn't happy about this turn of events, either way.

Seamus kissed Blaise lovingly on the forehead before releasing him. They still acted as though they couldn't really stand each other, although Harry found their attraction quite obvious. Harry, Hermione and Seamus then waited for a few minutes, quietly discussing the new turn of events.

"Blaise doesn't really know why Crabbe and Goyle are acting like they do," whispered Seamus. "It has to do with the orders their parents are sending, though, I guess. Maybe they _want_ to be expelled from school." He quickly looked to his left and right before leaning closer. "And I just heard that Crabbe got detention, too. He beat upsome second year from Ravenclaw."

Hermione nodded. "It does look like that, doesn't it? But as I told Harry before: it wouldn't make sense. Voldemort would be better off with minions at Hogwarts; _inside_ Hogwarts."

"Maybe they're just cannon fodder. I bet Malfoy, Parkinson and Nott are his real spies and Crabbe and Goyle are just trying to divert the attention from other Death Eaters to themselves."

"So far they're succeeding," said Hermione bitterly.

They entered the Great Hall a minute later, taking their seats quietly. Every Gryffindor glared over to the Slytherin table.

Somewhat depressed Harry noticed how some of them pressed their lips together and stared stonily at their plates. He felt truly sorry for them; by now he knew that being a Slytherin didn't automatically mean one was a Death Eater or even supported Voldemort at all. The shunning was worse for children who didn't really know how to handle it.

And what they were receiving now was quite different from the usual house rivalry.

Crabbe and Goyle sat next to Pansy and Malfoy, pigging out as usual. Ron sneered at them when they were looking up for a moment. Blaise sat between some fourth years and as far away from his year mates as possible. Millicent Bulstrode was seated between some seventh years that were conversing around her without taking offence that she was there.

Harry took in the strange seating arrangement and noticed that Nott was nowhere to be seen. And Pansy rambled on about something that disgusted Malfoy greatly. He was holding his goblet stiffly and was not eating at all. Harry thought that he looked rather pitiful in between his goons and acquaintances.

As Harry made no move to eat, Hermione piled some ham and cheese sandwiches onto his plate.

"Don't think so much," she said quietly. "You should enjoy your holidays, not think about that problem so much." She looked at Crabbe and Goyle disdainfully, and then started to eat. "We have other things to do. You mustn't forget to ask Snuffles and Moony about reinforcements and a Pensieve."

"Yes, Ma'am," replied Harry playfully.

They ate and finally were able to relax a bit. Harry actually looked forward to the staff meeting after dinner. It was always interesting to see how Hogwarts worked behind the school routine the students had.

Every week he could watch the teachers' bantering about some thing or other, mainly Filch screaming at everybody else because he felt insulted and disrespected. Harry always thought that the staff meeting was in truth some kind of group therapy, a possibility for colleagues to pick on each other without fearing to lose face in front of students.

Especially Snape was decidedly cruel to some of the other professors, mainly Trelawney and Blackadder. With McGonagall he had obviously forged a weird friendship which seemed to consist of only bantering and snide remarks rather than true feelings of friendship towards each other. But if one was attacked, they jumped in to support the other.

Love-hate relationships they were called or something along those lines. Harry decided that the world of adults wasn't that different from the children's world after all.

The staff meeting took place in a neutral room. A large table stood in the middle of the room, and there were enough chairs for everyone to settle down. Dumbledore always told the Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl to intermingle with the teachers. He didn't want lobbies in his staff, that much was clear.

But it didn't explain the fact why Harry and Hermione landed between Snape and Blackadder of all people, the worst teachers in Harry's opinion, although Hermione didn't really seem to mind that Snape was sitting to her left, scowling forbiddingly.

Malfoy, who sat across from Harry and between Flitwick and Vector, smirked. Pansy had found herself involuntarily separated from Draco and was now sitting next to Hagrid. Firenze nodded at Harry. For obvious reasons the Centaur preferred standing. His pale hair and coat glinted beautifully in the light of the fireplace and candles. They would have him in Divination the next term.

Blushing slightly, Harry recognised that he really liked people with fair hair; Firenze was truly beautiful, and his serene character was very calming to Harry.

Dumbledore started the meeting with the incident from that afternoon. Immediately the teachers bristled. McGonagall demanded expulsion while Snape became suddenly passionate and defended their stay with all arguments possible. Blackadder just watched with her usual indifferent expression.

"But Albus, surely you know that those boys will finally overstep the last boundaries!" roared McGonagall, banging her fist on the table.

"Then we can send them back to the Dark Lord - with a bow around their necks and a nice card!" Snape snarled back, equally heated and frustrated. "And maybe Potter on a silver platter, too!"

"The rules clearly say that molesting a fellow student will be punished with expulsion!" shouted McGonagall. "And I don't want to wait until something serious happens!"

Flitwick, Trelawney, Firenze and Vector all agreed. Especially Flitwick, who had already levelled down the strength of the charm, was outraged. Hermione twiddled with her wand, not really paying attention. What was being discussed here held no reference to other, Voldemort-related meetings, and everybody in the room knew it, with the exceptions of Malfoy, Pansy, Trelawney and Blackadder.

"Slytherin already lost another one hundred and fifty points today," intervened Dumbledore, "and the boys have detention for a month with Severus, Argus and Hagrid. That should suffice for the time being. I also ask that you all watch those two closely and prevent other incidents like the last."

Flitwick cleared his throat with a squeaking noise. "Since I have charmed the sprigs of mistletoe I can spell Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle immune against the charm." He peered into the faces of his colleagues and students. "And that'll mean nobody has to stay under a sprig of mistletoe with them again."

"Almost a pity that Christmas time in Hogwarts is over on Saturday, then," muttered Harry wryly.

Flitwick looked actually quite proud at that comment. Dumbledore's eyes held that annoying twinkle, as if he knew everything in the world. Snape and McGonagall were scowling at Harry, although he didn't exactly know why.

Dumbledore continued going through his agenda, saving Harry from being stared at for too long. The efficiency of their patrolling shifts was discussed next, then the issues in the houses and several problems of single students …

At the end of the meeting Harry, Hermione and the other Prefects were visibly relieved to be dismissed. But when Padma, Anthony, Ernie, Hannah, Malfoy and Pansy filed out, Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

Hermione had attached herself to Snape and was now busy cornering him into counselling her.

Harry rolled his eyes. Why did she have to make her life overly difficult? But after looking around he noticed that McGonagall was already gone, and so were Flitwick, Vector, Hagrid and Sinistra. Professor Blackadder was still slinking around the room, and Trelawney made a nuisance of herself as usual. Hooch was quietly talking to Sprout, taking no notice of Hermione's attempt to bother Snape.

"Miss Granger, what is it _now_?" asked Snape, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I'm _so_ sorry, Professor," she said pleasantly, "but the other _suitable_ counsellors are already gone, and I have only one question." She almost smirked at his calculating look.

Snape's black eyes narrowed dangerously, but Hermione didn't budge. Sighing, he gave his consent, realising that the way to the door was too long for even him. "Then ask. I haven't got all night for your silly problems."

"Wonderful." She pulled her wand from her sleeve and banged it on the table. "It seems my wand is disagreeing with me lately. Do you have any idea how that can be?"

Snape's eyes flickered, and his interest was sparked. A cold, amused smirk danced over his features. He grabbed her wand and turned it a few times, feeling it with his own magic.

"I have an idea," he sneered. "But I'm shocked that you haven't figured it out by yourself, Miss Granger." His sneer grew wider and his voice dropped several notches. "There's a first time for everything, Miss Granger. Wouldn't you agree?"

"Certainly," said Hermione, completely unfazed at the deadly soft tone of his voice. She rather seemed to enjoy this, actually.

Snape traced the length of her wand with slow movements of his index finger, staring at it in contemplation. "Well," he said finally. "I'm not completely sure." He looked at her uncomfortably. "I need to feel your magic to tell you what exactly is wrong."

She looked at him blankly, but Harry had somehow the feeling she was playing with him. Then she frowned cutely; Harry was sure it was an act.

"What do I have to do, Professor?" she asked anxiously. "Will it _hurt_?"

Now Snape noticed that she was baiting him. His eyebrows furrowed together and his mouth twitched. "Just give me your hand, you silly girl," he growled darkly, glaring at her.

He grabbed her hand not really gently. With the other he still held the wand. After what must have been a minute or two he released her from his grip and handed the wand back. "It seems, Miss Granger, that your wand needs replacement."

"_What_?" cried Hermione disbelievingly. "But – _no_!"

Snape sneered. "Other wizards would be flattered to have the need to replace their wands. It means that your powers have been changing. Growing, most likely."

"I've grown quite attached to it, thank you very much," snapped Hermione at him. "Just wonderful. Now I have to drag my parents to Diagon Alley to get a new one."

"Professor McGonagall already told me about your little misfortune in her classroom, Potter," said Snape smugly. "It figures that you too wouldn't know not to use such a narrow wand."

"Well, it worked," snarked Harry back. "Only a _little_ too well."

Snape's lips twitched again. It almost looked as if he desperately wanted to smile, or even laugh, but repressed it in front of his least liked students.

"Anyway, thanks for the revelation, Professor," said Hermione, now glaring in open contempt at her wand. "Have a good night. I know I won't." Without waiting for Harry she stalked out and slammed the door shut.

Harry and Snape glared at each other. Now that Hermione was out of the way their strong dislike for each other flared up. Trelawney moaned something about rabid Nifflers in the background but neither man paid her any mind.

"I want to see you on Friday," said Snape coldly. "Eight o'clock, sharp."

"Fine," said Harry. He nodded at the few teachers who were still occupying the room and left. Exchanging pleasantries with Snape was not on his list, and would most likely never be.

"_Replacement_!" cried Hermione when he joined her on the way to their common room.

"What's wrong with that? You heard him; your powers are too much for it," said Harry.

"But I thought it would take some more years, if ever. And now, in the middle of the year, I have to get a new wand and work with it!" She sounded slightly hysterical, and truth be told, Harry couldn't imagine exchanging his wand, either.

"There, there, you'll find one in Ollivander's store," said Harry, trying to sound consoling.

Hermione sniffed in desperation. "But it's just so … I can't even describe it!"

Harry could see what she meant. His wand was like an extension of his arm, the conductor for his magic. The channels to direct his power were uniquely his, and his wand would never betray him – as long as it fitted him.

But he wasn't afraid that he would outgrow his wand soon. McGonagall had said his wand had very wide channels, and he figured he had to grow a whole lot stronger to even use it at its full capacity.

"Don't worry. It'll all be fine." He dragged her up to their tower and gave the password to the Fat Lady ("Lord of Light!").

The common room was nearly empty; only the seventh years were still sitting in front of the fire and studying for their next test. It was quite late and Harry decided to go to bed early. Hermione was still distraught and shaken, but she assured him that she'd be fine and that he should go to sleep.

Half an hour later he lay in his bed and stared at the canopy. The silencing charm around his bed made sure that, if he had nightmares and became overly vocal, he wouldn't wake up the others. Only Ron would be able to hear him, and Harry only had agreed to that because Ron had threatened to pummel him and call all his brothers for help if he didn't.

He contemplated Hermione's situation. It would leave a gap, of that he was sure. But it was also a sign – and a drastic one at that – that she was growing up now. Her powers were ripening and adjusting. He himself found it exciting, but the suddenness of it made him think, of course. Hermione would need someone to rely on in the next days, and not only in classes.

Sighing, he pushed all that aside and started his Occlumency training. Snape would have a field day if he discovered Harry hadn't been practicing. He suspected that any excuse to make him miserable just before the holidays was good enough for Snape.

Well, maybe not … if Harry got him first.

Only minutes later Harry fell asleep, smirking.

-----

Advanced Potions was a nightmare on Wednesday morning. Snape was in a scarily good mood, and Harry knew it was because of Hermione's predicament. Of course Snape had thrown his previous project out of the window and picked another one – one that required some charms and spells.

Hermione's tense shoulders told Harry everything, and he felt sorry for her. She and Terry quietly conversed about the teamwork and it was decided that Terry should do the magic while Hermione felt it safer to stick to the ingredients and the stirring.

Snape didn't even take points from Harry when his fire threatened to scorch the worktable. In his agitation Harry almost ruined their potion with too much heat.

"Watch out!" hissed Blaise. "She can handle it, you'll see!"

Harry guiltily kept his hasty motions down from then on.

"Tell me, Miss Granger, why do you think you can let Mr Boot do all the work?" Snape asked silkily when they were fifteen minutes into the period.

"I happen to believe that dividing magic and handiwork in a shared project will heighten the quality of the end result, Professor," said Hermione tightly.

"And do you truly believe Mr Boot's spells will suffice?" Snape asked darkly, drawing the already slowly spoken words out even more.

"They have to," ground Hermione out, even more sour than before.

Snape drew his wand and waved it lazily. "Indeed, Miss Granger." He prodded at the magical flame. "This fire is too cool, Boot," he said, a hint of terrible amusement in his voice. "Heat it up, now, or you'll get a zero."

"Y-yes, Sir," stammered Terry. He let the fire flare up.

Hermione hissed under her breath. To Harry it sounded like astoundingly colourful obscenities, but Snape actually seemed to enjoy her struggles and didn't take points. For now.

"That will suffice, Boot. It's fortunate that you can help Miss Granger out, isn't it?" His dark voice was tinged with cruel satisfaction. Harry figured it was really a field day for Snape to pick on perfect Hermione.

"I can do heating charms perfectly well by myself," said Hermione in that icy voice that usually made all of her housemates shrink back in fear. "But, as you know, I'm a little bit … handicapped. I thought it would be safer to leave it to a _working_ wand. After all it was _you_ who insisted that we should do nothing _stupid_ in your classroom. Sir."

Snape sneered at her. "How insightful of you."

Malfoy stared with open glee at the bickering couple until Luna accidentally poked him in the nose with her wand and he sputtered about her ineptness. Hannah and Ernie watched with apprehension. The first period was only half over; there still was a long way to go until they would be dismissed.

"I suggest however, Miss Granger, that you keep your opinion to yourself," said Snape gleefully. "This is an advanced class, and I don't want to pass out zeros just because you're holding up your partner."

"With all due respect, Professor," replied Hermione, now positively furious though still very controlled, "It is _you_ who's holding us up. Me, to be precise. Although I don't want to blame you, Professor, I must say your timing was rather bad–"

A sizzling sound could be heard, and Terry muttered "Oh dear!" in fright.

"Give me your wand, you moron!" barked Hermione when Terry made no move to extinguish the fire under the cauldron. He held his wand tightly in his fist. "Shit," muttered Hermione. The potion inside the cauldron boiled higher, and bubbles popped up and splattered an acidic liquid on their table.

"Your wand, Boot!" roared Hermione again. But Terry just grabbed it tighter and retreated from the now boiling potion. "Oh for the _sake_ of–"

All mouths hung open at her next move. Since Terry would never let go of his wand she simply grabbed Snape's. Right out of his hand.

"_Finite_!" said Hermione sharply, and the fire died down instantly. "_Stabilus_!"

White as a sheet of fresh parchment Terry looked at an acid-burned hole next to his right elbow.

Hermione threw him a scathing glare. "_Thanks_ for your help, Terry," she said sarcastically.

Snape glared at his wand in her small hand. It gleamed, menacingly dark brown, so large and foreign in the hand of someone as petite as Hermione. She gruffly put it down on her table, giving Terry another glare, promising death. Before Snape could even start is tirade; Hermione beat him to it.

"Now you _see_ who disturbed whom, Professor," she said bitingly. "If it hadn't been for your useless sniping then none of this would have happened!"

Blaise winced at her tone and words, and even Malfoy recoiled from the black clad, brooding figure that was reaching its explosion point with rapid speed.

"I wonder what it _is_ that makes you go all hyper when one of the non-Slytherins makes one small mistake. Maybe I should go to Professor Dumbledore and tell him about your classes. I'm fed up, and I won't let you do that any longer!"

The others held their breaths. Being incredibly brave, Hermione had dared not only to criticise Snape but also threaten him with Dumbledore. Of course, Snape didn't see it quite that way.

"_Out_," snapped Snape in his scariest voice, the barely-there whisper. "Get out. Dawdle somewhere. _Far_. _Away_." He looked at Hermione who stared back at him, as defiantly as one could do under his glare. "All but you, Granger."

The class scrambled to put the fires out and stabilise their work. In a matter of minutes the room was empty, and the door banged shut with a horrid finality.

"Oh my God," whispered Blaise once they had calmed their racing heartbeats down. "What did she _think_?! He will _kill_ her!"

"I can't believe Granger did that," said Malfoy, even more pale than usual. "Taking his wand like that." He snapped a finger and stared in utmost disbelief at the closed door.

"She was right, of course," said Ernie Macmillan in an important voice. "But this is Snape. I hope we'll get her back alive."

They waited for a moment in the cool corridor, expecting to hear raised voices. Harry admitted that he would love to hear their screaming and ranting. Hermione could be a beast if she had to, and Snape was really pushing her buttons lately. But apparently one of them had put a silencing charm over the room. Or they weren't yelling at each other. But with that look on both their faces he couldn't quite believe it.

"A pity," sighed Malfoy finally, running a hand through his hair. "She's a stupid Mudblood, but I admire her courage. Really," he added with a sneer when he saw Harry glaring at him.

Terry was shaking like a leaf. "It's all my fault," he stuttered. "If I had given her my wand …"

"Oh, come on. You know you wouldn't have given it away and don't deny it," said Hannah sharply. "She had to do _something_."

"Yeah. Apparently you were too occupied with their stupid quarrel to watch out for the fire," said Blaise reproachfully.

Malfoy's face clearly showed his confusion about the ease with which the others argued. Harry smirked slightly. Sometimes it felt good to have something Malfoy wasn't able to disturb, badmouth or take away; very good indeed. The time of their DA meetings was often spent with arguing over one thing or another, but they had built some rules for arguing, such as being fair and hearing the other out.

Harry went to Luna. "Nice hit at his nose, by the way," he whispered loud enough for the others to hear, pointing at Malfoy.

"Thank you," beamed Luna, her milky blue eyes radiant in the dim torchlight.

Malfoy bristled. "She did that on purpose!"

"Of course," replied Harry smugly. "Although your nose is stuck up enough as it is, thank you very much."

Ernie and Terry whinnied, Hannah laughed and even Blaise chuckled into his hand. Malfoy's cheeks turned a pretty red, and he looked livid.

"Why, Potter, I'll hex you so bad your Mudblood friend won't even be able to distinguish you from the wall grime!"

"That was a good one, ferret boy," retorted Harry coolly. He clapped mockingly. "But don't you think all that Mudblood crap is getting old? Where's your imagination?" He tutted at him in mock-sorrow and shook his head.

As expected, Malfoy bristled even more. "You're not worthy of a good comeback, Potty. That's why!"

"And I don't think someone as prejudiced as you is worthy of _my_ time, Malfoy," said Harry coldly. He glared at Malfoy and let all his contempt show in his eyes. "Just stay out of my way and you might not end up at the wrong end of my wand."

The threat made the air boil with heated dislike, hate and hurt feelings. Harry knew exactly how much his words must sting, but Malfoy wasn't any better, and he was fed up with only taking and not lashing back.

His Inner Goodness (or whatever he had as an equivalent when it came to Malfoy), however, told him that it was quite enough now. Malfoy was cornered by five other students who were all laughing at him and hated him to some degree. He had been in that situation far too often and knew how much it could hurt, and right now Malfoy looked vulnerable. Harry decided that the blond git might have deserved it, but they were better than that, and, most importantly, better than _him_.

He turned his back on Malfoy, and the others took it as a sign to leave him alone. Blaise walked over to Malfoy and started talking to him quietly.

"Do you think Snape will have her expelled for her frankness?" Luna asked.

"No. If Snape takes it to Dumbledore Hermione will explain the whole thing and Snape would get a lecture, not her. And if he's too hard on her she'd go to Dumbledore anyway." Harry grinned like a shark. "The good professor hasn't much of a chance here."

Malfoy glared at Harry over Blaise's shoulder. "You think that's funny, do you, Potty?"

"Indeed, Malfoy," replied Harry coolly. He ignored Blaise's pleading look. "After all, your lovely Snape is trying to get my friends and me expelled, not the other way around." He lowered his voice to a menacing whisper. "And you know that Dumbledore would never fire Snape, no matter what is said about him."

"Yeah, a little bit of revenge is in order," said Hannah pleasantly.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Malfoy," smirked Ernie.

"I would take bets on the outcome of their row," said Terry. He seemed to have recovered from the shock in class.

"And I'm really glad that Hermione is giving him a piece of her mind right now," said Harry coldly. "He deserves it anyway, that stuck up prick."

Malfoy's glare intensified. But seeing that everybody there except Luna and Blaise was a Prefect here he couldn't even take revenge.

Harry turned away and continued his little chat with Luna. They waited until the bell rang for the first break, but the door didn't open. They also waited for the second period, but by then they all had an inkling that the matter wouldn't be settled that easily.

* * *

**End of chapter 5a**


	6. Chapter 5b

**Disclaimer:** _Nothing but most parts of the plot (save some references) are mine. The glorious rest belongs to JKR and her evil henchmen *hrhrhr*_

Thanks: Again I thank my wonderful and patient beta reader Licelli. You did great work, as usual :-) *bows* And thanks go to all the readers who took the time to read my story. Your comments are really encouraging and also occasionally question me. Thanks a lot for your patience and kind words.

To some reviews I'd like to answer directly: Two or three of you mentioned that Harry was being a brat and disrespectful towards teachers and other students. You are right, sometimes he's being difficult, but please try to see it from my point of view.

First and foremost Harry is a teen and going through puberty. Mood swings and battles of will are normal for most teens during that time. And he also has the most evil and powerful wizard after him. Wouldn't you be scared and at the end of your rope most of the time? Wouldn't you be impatient with people who try to steal your time and get on your nerves? What would it be like to be tormented by nightmares and a teacher that hates you and the knowledge that, in the end, everything is up to you?

In this story, Harry has a strong character and he is by no means a saint with a halo but a human boy in his teens who has way too much on his plate. I promise that Harry will always try to be fair but even his good character has its boundaries and even his patience can be tried. Please try to accept his personality because I wanted to portray him with a backbone but also some flaws because nobody is perfect. I want him to be someone who could be your friend (or adversary, whichever serves you best) if you knew him personally. I' sure that even your best friends have traits you don't like so much ;-)

Well, that was a rather lenghty note! I hope you can understand me better now. I respect your opinion, I really do. Still, I would like to ask you to bear with me and see where the story takes Harry and his friends. Believe me, I have a reason for almost everything :-)

And now on to the story. Have fun reading!

* * *

**Chapter 5b**

----------------

Ernie, Hannah and Harry went on their way to Herbology. He would tell Madam Sprout that Hermione had to talk with Snape – the good woman would hear the truth soon enough, he decided. And Hermione and Snape would land in Dumbledore's office anyway, he supposed.

Hermione was not a girl who stepped back from a challenge, and he had noticed that she had had her revengeful eye on the man for quite some time now. In a way he was grateful that she was doing the hard work in telling Snape off because she wasn't as biased on the matter as he was, and she had no idea of the things that had happened between his father, Sirius and Snape, either. She was objective and realistic, and that was her big advantage.

He entered Greenhouse Three with Ernie and Hannah and told Sprout where Hermione was. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville all looked at him expectantly, but he refused to tell anything until they had their first break. Lavender and Parvati tried to coax it out of Harry, but thankfully Sprout was a little bit more strict than usual and reprimanded them for talking in class.

But as soon as the bell had rung he was surrounded by his housemates and questioned thoroughly. He told them everything about the row in Potions and that Hermione was still arguing with Snape. Ernie and Hannah did the same, apparently, because a large bulk of Hufflepuffs was crowded around them.

"Blimey!" exclaimed Ron once he was finished.

"Talking back to Snape? _Blaming_ him?!" cried Seamus. "She's gone nuts!"

"Maybe she'll achieve something," muttered Neville. "I mean, Snape's always evil. He deserves it."

"What are her chances to come out of it alive?" Dean asked anxiously.

"Slim to none, I guess," said Lavender. "Parv and I are taking bets, though. One package Chocolate Frogs that she's getting a month long detention."

"Lavender!" said Harry reproachfully.

"A thousand points from Gryffindor," said Seamus, shrugging at Harry's withering glare. "I'm just being realistic."

"Five hundred points," said Ron. "And detention."

"Not when she's going to Dumbledore," said Parvati. "I say she has to talk it out with Snape."

"She's doing that already," scoffed Harry.

"I mean some make up talk," said Parvati, rolling her eyes. "You all know that Dumbledore never lets things like that rest."

"Unfortunately," muttered Ron. "Poor girl."

Dean wagered on detention, too. Neville and Harry refused to bet but they pondered nonetheless what nightmares Hermione's reckless bravery would bring. Then the second period of Herbology started and Sprout called them back to their plants.

Harry was a little worried when Hermione wasn't in the Great Hall for lunch. He and Ron looked at each other, then up at the Head Table. Snape and Dumbledore weren't present either. Harry really wondered what could take them so long. Not even two masterminds like Snape and Hermione could throw insults at each other for so long. Or could they?

Unfortunately the lunch hour was quickly over and they had to run up to the north tower. Ron, Neville and Seamus panted behind him as he skidded through the hallways, pushing though lines and groups of students. The stairs weren't with them today as it seemed, because they kept changing directions whenever they stepped on them.

Cursing, the boys struggled their way up to the seventh floor and from there on onto the winding staircase. In their haste the whole group almost crashed together with the Slytherins, who were equally late. They were so late that even Malfoy spared them all a nasty remark and simply rushed after Harry who hadn't been waiting for any insults.

While running, Ron sniggered at Crabbe's and Goyle's grunting. Malfoy's pale face was flushed in embarrassment and exhaustion – he was never late and apparently not quite used to running like mad to be in class on time. An advantage the Gryffindors were happy to use to its fullest.

"Why are _you_ late, Malfoy?" Ron asked snidely.

Puffing, Malfoy ran up the steps and gave Ron a condescending glare. Harry chuckled.

"None-of-your–business," grunted Malfoy.

His shiny black shoes clicked dryly on the steps, and the harsh, panting breaths of the group of students reverberated through the tower.

"Oh, how I hate Divination," wheezed Blaise, holding his side. "And now I remember why."

"We're almost there, Zabini," teased Harry, flying up the last few steps and into the weak winter light that streamed into the circular room through a large window.

The silver ladder was still out. Without further ado Harry clambered up the ladder and through the trapdoor. Ron, Blaise and Malfoy were hot on his heels and then Nott, Millicent Bulstrode, Lavender, Parvati and Seamus followed. After them came Pansy, Neville, Crabbe and Goyle.

Seeing that he was actually the first who stepped into the classroom, Harry immediately chose his favourite table at the window with the broken window frame and saved Ron his seat.

Blaise swooped to the table next to his and Malfoy practically jumped at the chance to partner with him, although it meant a very close proximity to Ron and Harry.

Seamus and Dean chose a table next to Harry's other side and Lavender and Parvati took a table in front of them. So Harry was effectively shielded from a glowering Pansy, an indifferent Millicent, a fuming Nott and the dumbly grinning Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry felt sorry for Neville who had to choose between one of the Slytherins. It was maybe the wisest thing he had done this week to partner with Millicent Bulstrode before Pansy could.

"You're brave, Longbottom," sneered Millicent. "Seems like some of Gryffindork's traits are coming through at last."

Neville glared at her defiantly. "I'm brave enough for _you_, Bulstrode," he shot back.

Ron, Seamus and Dean all cheered. Pansy, who sat with Nott at the other side of the room, glared even harder.

After them Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil from Ravenclaw and Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbott and her boyfriend Ernie Macmillan from Hufflepuff entered the classroom and seated themselves at the free tables. The other students had dropped the subject.

Harry found it almost strange that so many Gryffindors and Slytherins were taking it on NEWT level at all. But they still had the possibility to drop it after sixth year, so maybe it wasn't that surprising after all. Some just had to fill their timetables and no desire to truly work for the class, like Neville, who needed any spare minute to study he could get, or Ron, who thought homework was stress and a fun-killer. Harry had enough other NEWT subjects (one needed at least four), he wanted to be able to drop Divination if he wanted or needed to next year.

"How wonderful of you all to be on time," said Professor Trelawney happily, completely ignoring the glares of hatred that crossed the room. "Welcome to the last lesson we'll have together for the year …" Smoke gently surrounded her thin body with all her glittering jewellery.

"Thank god," muttered Seamus audibly.

"The next term you'll spend with Firenze." Trelawney furrowed her brow a bit, and a disapproving expression crossed her usually serene face.

"Oh, good!" said Pansy Parkinson loudly.

Trelawney's mouth set in a thin line. "Yes, if you're keen on hearing about the wandering of stars." Shawls flew everywhere when she started to glide through the room, prowling around their tables. "These two branches of Divination are very different … Firenze must have told you that already." Her tone was unmistakeably sarcastic now.

Parvati and Lavender nodded firmly. Millicent played with her quill and looked utterly bored. Goyle and Crabbe shuffled with their feet under their table. It made Nott twitchy. None of this, however, made any impression on Professor Trelawney.

"Miss Parkinson, I don't see how you can find the useless staring better than practical and successful methods. Five points from Slytherin for ignorance."

Before Pansy could open her mouth to protest, Professor Trelawney was already gliding away.

"_However_, the Centaurs' way of seeing the future is different because they live much, much longer than a human." Her huge eyes landed on Harry. "They see what might happen in a decade or two, still not being sure about anything." A small smile graced her lips. "You'll understand that I, as a mortal human, prefer to know what's happening as quickly as possible."

Lavender and Parvati giggled. Hannah, too, looked impressed. Harry found Professor Trelawney rather reasonable today. But maybe she was just wound up because Firenze still intruded on her territory. She had been that way – only more irritated – last year when Umbridge had tried to sack her and throw her out of Hogwarts.

And now that she mentioned the Centaurs Harry wondered where they were. Hagrid and his classes had been in the Forbidden Forest numerous times, and not once had the Centaurs made good on their vow to kill the humans. That was good, but he still wondered where they were now, and why Firenze was staying behind voluntarily. Even though the other Centaurs hated him for associating with humans, they were still his family.

A look on Ron's face only confirmed his suspicions.

"Hagrid," mouthed Ron.

Harry nodded, not aware of the calculating look Malfoy was giving them.

"What are you staring at, ferret boy?" said Dean sharply. He, unlike Ron or Harry, had seen his interest.

"Maybe he's got the hots for Harry," snickered Seamus. "Well, Malfoy, if you like him, just tell him! I bet he wouldn't even hex you for that."

"Finnigan, shut your fat trap or I'll do that for you!" threatened Nott from the other side of the room.

Harry and Malfoy both blushed uncomfortably, trying to look unconcerned.

"Dracy will never have the hots for Potter!" screeched Pansy. "He's _mine_, and Potter is a _boy_ anyway!"

Anthony and Padma laughed out loud at her rant. Lavender, Parvati and Millicent rolled their eyes discreetly.

Professor Trelawney regarded the whole scene with mild interest. "Aaah, yes," she said airily, effectively shutting the arguing students up, "I saw that long coming …" Her voice became even mistier. "_Love_ is in the air, my dears …"

Now almost everyone was in a fit of giggles, even Nott, although he looked slightly hysterical. Pansy, however, didn't find it funny at all.

"Then where's the love? Who's loving whom? Did you all see it in your birds? Or your fire?" The scorn in Pansy's voice was so prominent that it shocked the others.

"Love, Miss Parkinson, is nothing to know and tell," said Trelawney coldly. "Where would be the excitement in discovering love if I told you?" She glared at the blond girl. "Another five points from Slytherin. For your rudeness."

They glared at each other. Not even Hermione had hated Professor Trelawney as much as Pansy did.

Harry shifted in his seat. He was very uncomfortable with that particular topic. The disaster with Cho was still too fresh in his mind – and in the minds of others. Smugly he noticed that Malfoy was wriggling around as well and glancing cautiously at Pansy who was fanning herself angrily with a sheet of parchment.

"Now, where was I," said Trelawney airily. "Oh, yes. I was saying–"

"Professor, since when do you know about that love thing?" Seamus asked boldly. "Since the sprigs of mistletoe were hung up?"

Snickers came from every table. Professor Trelawney ignored them and sighed.

"Of course not, dear. I had a feeling … My Inner Eye sensed strong emotions in Hogwarts … Feelings of hate, but also feelings of love …"

"But Professor, everybody knows that Malfoy and Harry hate each other," said Dean loudly so that he wouldn't be ignored.

"Now dears, everybody please take a bowl … yes, Neville dear, the large, silvery ones … one bowl for each table … fill them with water please."

"Great, she's ignoring us anyway," muttered Dean huffily. "Splendid Inner Eye, that. Must be a bit dusty, don't you think?"

Blaise snorted into his water and sprayed Malfoy with it. Ron gasped with suppressed laughter at Malfoy's incredulous look; Harry had to elbow him sharply to shut him up.

"This might be our last lesson together for this school year," said Trelawney with her smoky, airy voice. "But we will still have a look at the water omens. They might show you things …"

"I know what!" cried Parvati eagerly. Behind her back Padma rolled her eyes.

Professor Trelawney waved her hand at her theatrically and permitted her to speak.

"Water omens are our Mirrors," explained Parvati, clearly excited. "With the right amount of talent or magic the water will show us our innermost desire, our darkest fear, our greatest love and so on and so forth."

"Five points to Gryffindor, my dear. That was marvellous," said Trelawney.

Tears welled in her eyes. Her glasses magnified her already huge eyes even more and made them look like incredibly creepy insect eyes. Harry had to force himself to look away; every time he stared into her eyes he wondered how anyone's eyes could always be so moist, watering the instant it was needed.

"Now look into your Mirrors, my dears, and write me a five inch long report about the results. I'm so excited …"

The students moaned about their misfortune and bent over the bowls of water. Harry urged Ron to start; the smoke in the room made him swoon already and he wanted to try and pry the window open a bit. Ron shrugged and stared into the water, all the time muttering under his breath. When Trelawney turned her back and talked with Nott, Harry jumped up and yanked at the stubborn window frame. With a huge breath of relief he pulled in the cool, crisp air that entered through the gap.

"I don't see anything," said Ron angrily after a few minutes. "How am I _supposed_ to see something when I have no idea what to do?!"

Harry just shrugged. It was like his Occlumency lesson with Snape. Sometimes the teacher just wasn't in the mood to explain things.

"Well, let me have a look. You try to find something to make up for it," replied Harry quickly.

"Yeah … I should stick to my story from first year … Head Boy and that nonsense …," said Ron lightly. "Works every time."

Harry just smiled faintly and took the bowl. The hurt in Ron's voice was so clear to him, so cutting. He still envied Harry for his fame. And as much as he wanted to share it with him, in this particular matter there was nothing he could do. Sighing he waited until the water was still and smooth.

But glaring at some water seemed so stupid to him. Maybe his ability to read some signs was used up now and he was back to his usual dunce-state. It was just water, shimmering and clear. Not moving at all. Why would he even stare at something as boring as that? What was he doing there anyway, running over a meadow, laughing?

Harry felt like flying, feeling the green, green grass under his bare feet. A soft summer breeze caressed his tanned skin and the unruly black hair. Faint voices called to him. Male voices. Was he with Ron or some other friends? He had never been happier in his life, they were calling out to him, playfully, gently–

"What the _fuck_?!"

A crashing sound disrupted Harry's pleasant daydream rather abruptly. His eyes darted to Malfoy's and Blaise's table. Malfoy stood, clearly agitated. His face was red with anger, and the silver bowl lay on the floor, all the water was drenching the carpet and some tablecloths. Blaise tried to calm him, but this time he was not succeeding. Malfoy trembled, and then he shakily started to pack up his things, all the while cursing and muttering under his breath.

The whole class watched when Malfoy kicked the door of the hatch open, sent the ladder crashing down and disappeared as quickly as a lightening bolt.

"Well, it seems as if Mr Malfoy has seen something rather interesting," said Professor Trelawney in a cheery voice. "And think of the five inches, dear. I'm insisting …" She floated away to Goyle who was trying to drink the water instead of looking into it.

"Hey mate, you seemed out of it for a moment," said Ron worriedly. "Did you see anything?"

"No … No, I couldn't. Malfoy got me out of it," lied Harry. "Maybe I should try again a bit later …"

"Well, then you can help me now to make up some probable things for Trelawney," whispered Ron. "I mean I covered the Head Boy thing, and I wrote about spiders and my mom and dad being killed … but it doesn't fill five inches, you know?"

Harry helped Ron with his report and thought secretly about the beautiful meadow he had seen. Was that his deepest desire? Running up a hill, followed by friends? He knew he had been happy in that moment, but he didn't know why. It was eating at him.

In second period he dared to have another go. No one was bothering him; Trelawney was tending to her pet students Parvati and Lavender, other students were either talking or at least attempting to take their task seriously. Harry stared into the water and tried to see, but nothing happened. He blamed his shakiness about the first vision, if that had been one and not just a stupid daydream.

In order to have at least something to hand in he put his short glimpse into a detailed report. He described the greenness of the grass and the feel of the breeze on his skin and even mentioned the voices but left out how pleasant they had sounded.

"At least we both had something to write about," said Ron smugly when they were walking back to their common room. "What did you make up, mate?"

"Oh, I … uhm, I wrote that I was running over a meadow, feeling happy," said Harry guiltily. Trying to disguise a truth as a lie was strange. But it was obviously strange enough to let Ron believe it.

"Oi, simple things now, mate?" Ron asked. "Well, at least it's something new, right?"

He slung his arm around Harry's shoulder. Behind them Seamus and Dean were talking animatedly about their deepest desires – Dean about a happy life with Ginny and Seamus about his first night with Blaise. Said boy bumped into Harry; he was beet red in the face and looked mortified.

"Oh, I just love his eyes," said Seamus dreamily. "Have you seen that wonderful blue? I wonder if his skin is as soft everywhere as on his neck …"

Harry and Ron snorted in laughter when Blaise fled and disappeared around the next possible corner. The amusement, however, didn't last long. When Harry and the gang arrived in their common room a fourth year girl told them that Hermione wasn't there. Worried, Harry hurried to his dorm and took the Marauder's Map, frantically searching for Hermione. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville helped him look. It was Neville who spotted her in the Room of Requirement.

"Oh, no, if she's there then it must have been bloodshed," said Ron heatedly. He started pacing. "But what to do? I'm totally crappy at talking. Nev has no idea what's going on-"

"I'm going," said Harry quietly, putting the map away and spelling his trunk shut. "I was there and know what happened. Let me handle this."

The other boys seemed relieved. Harry walked out of the dorm and stalked up to the seventh floor. The door that led to the Room of Requirement was visible, which meant that Hermione was still there. He cautiously opened it, wondering what he would see. He grabbed the handle, turned it and pushed the door open. It wasn't locked.

The sight didn't surprise him at all when he entered. It was a small study room. The walls were lined with bookshelves, and a window was hung with a heavy curtain, velvet, maybe. On one side of the room was a huge fireplace; it was alive with a merrily crackling fire. Pictures of Hermione's parents and all of her friends were standing on the mantelpiece. In front of the fireplace stood a soft looking leather sofa and curled on it sat Hermione.

She looked really miserable. Her small figure was curled tightly around a pillow, and her usually proud posture was slumped altogether. Harry wandered around the sofa and sat down next to her.

"Hey," he said softly.

"Hey," she replied tiredly. "How was Divination?"

"Boring as ever," said Harry untruthfully. "What about you? Do you want to tell me what happened in the classroom? And after that?"

Dry sobs shook Hermione's body. "You'll never forgive me," she whispered in despair.

"What happened? What did Snape do?"

Hermione turned around. Her doe eyes were red from crying, and she looked even more miserable than she sounded. Harry took her in his arms and stroked her back in comforting circles.

"He … He took three hundred house points, Harry. We're now behind Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff," she whimpered. "Even behind Slytherin by ten points. And it's my fault! They'll all hate me now!" She buried her face in his shoulder and started crying again.

"I don't hate you," whispered Harry. "You are the bravest person I know, and it was about damn time that somebody told Snape what an ass he is. Besides, house points aren't everything, 'Mione." He stroked her bushy hair, and then crushed her again in an embrace. "Now tell me what has happened, I'm dying to know."

"We were just yelling," said Hermione into the silence. "I told him how horrid I find it that he's so insufferable, and that he's a stupid git who hates you for no reason and that he's biased and all that crap I had wanted to tell him for ages … and I … I really did. I said everything."

"Who cast the silencing spell on the classroom?" asked Harry, his lips twitching in amusement.

"We both did, but my spell somewhat backfired and melted Malfoy's work table … I really should lock my wand away … anyhow, there the row really started. He called me irresponsible and I gave him his own medicine, basically. The stupid prick!" She was talking herself into a rage, and Harry watched with fascination how the misery slowly vanished and Hermione was filled with new energy. "He had the gall to call me Miss Perfect-Who-Does-Nothing-Right. It was _his_ goddamn fault that Terry heated the cauldron up too much–"

Harry let her rant and listened with rapt attention.

"-and then it was already noon. I really had enough. He had docked five hundred points by then, and I simply blasted the door away and went to Dumbledore. Ha! You should have seen him then! He was absolutely livid and actually ran after me." She snorted in triumph. "I figured that the bastard didn't want Dumbledore to be involved at all."

"What did Dumbledore do? Did he help you?" Harry asked, adjusting her on his lap.

"Yeah, he made Snape give back two hundred of the points and reverse the detention with Filch, which, I might add, was scheduled for two months after the holidays." Hermione huffed and rubbed her eyes. She looked much better now. "But he ordered that the two months have to be spent in company … of each other …" She snorted. "As if he and I could ever sort our issues out. I would just throttle him again!"

Harry laughed. "You know, our friends were taking bets on what Snape would do to you. And it seems Ron and Parvati have to share the prize."

"You bet on my misfortune?" said Hermione sternly.

"No, I didn't. And Neville didn't, either," explained Harry. "But Seamus guessed Snape would take a thousand points, and Lavender pledged for a month's worth of detention. Parvati said Dumbledore would make you two sort things out, which is what happened. Ron wagered for five hundred points loss, which comes near the number you actually lost."

"I'm so incredibly happy for them," said Hermione dryly. "Just wait until I have a new wand. I'll hex them to a clump of slug slime after I've shown Snape what I think of him."

"I'm already thrilled," joked Harry. "Now, are you ready to leave your cave and come back to us? I promise I'll protect you if they want to kill you."

"Yeah … just give me some time to pull myself together," she said. "It's so embarrassing. My wand doesn't even want to do simple charms anymore!"

"I would lend you mine, but it would be no help, would it?"

"Unfortunately not," sighed Hermione.

Harry smiled fondly. He started to ask questions about Krum and the letters Hermione wrote to him and she seemed grateful for the change of the subject. One hour later she was brave enough to leave the Room of Requirement.

"They won't kill you," said Harry softly. "They think you're a heroine."

"I just lost my mind," retorted Hermione, but she sounded a bit proud. "The worst is that I would do it again if Snape continued being so offensive."

"It's in your rights. You're a Prefect and have to look out for things that strain the teacher-student relationship."

Hermione barked a laugh. "Then I wonder why no one else is doing this."

"Spineless cowards?" suggested Harry, pointing at himself. "No, really. For me he is not worth the trouble, and the others like their heads where they are. On their shoulders."

"Oh well, my quarrel with him is kind of helped with his palm reading," said Hermione wryly.

"What did you learn?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Oh, only that Snape is a late bloomer when it comes to love and happiness." Her brow furrowed. "Somehow not really surprising, if you ask me. With Voldemort on the loose and all. He must be really pissed off to be always alone."

"What else did you find out?"

"They say he's a romantic at heart."

"Hard to believe," scoffed Harry.

"Oh, it gets even better. According to the book you gave me he'll find his happiness in the next few years. That either means someone is stupid enough to put up with him or you're going to defeat Voldemort for good." Hermione laughed. "I can't imagine who would be stupid enough to fall in love with the old crab. Not to mention be able to break his shell."

"Me either," said Harry. "We're almost there. Take a last breath … I'm opening the entrance hole …"

He ushered Hermione into the common room. Dean, Seamus, Ron, Dennis, Neville, Ginny, Lavender and Parvati all had waited for them. The second they stepped through the portrait hole they jumped up. Ron hugged Hermione and Seamus was patting her heartily on the back.

"That was bloody marvellous, 'Mione!" said Ron.

"About damn time someone told the git how much he sucks!" yelled Dennis.

Colin took some pictures of her and left her in a daze. Harry chuckled and led her to the sofa in front of the fireplace. The others crowded around them and started to ask how it had been, being stuck in a classroom with Snape of all people. They were suitably shocked when she confessed the three hundred point loss but decided quickly that it was well worth it. Some other Gryffindors joined the party, among them their favourite seventh years, Alicia, Angelina, Katie and Lee.

"We may be on the last place in the house competition right now," said Angelina, "but Hermione here did us all a favour. If somebody has a problem they can come to me first."

The whole group grinned shark-like. Hermione smiled gratefully and slumped against Harry. The lines of stress slowly vanished from her face.

"Are you tired?" Harry asked gently.

"Mmh, yes," she replied. "I'll go and take a nap. Thanks for your support."

Ginny took her to the girls' dorm, quietly talking to her.

"I just hope that Snape's a bit less evil than usual," said Neville, shuddering delicately. "I mean she's really brave and all, but I do want to have lost these points for _something_."

"Don't worry. Dumbledore will have his eye on him," said Harry happily. "Now, who of you is up to some Quidditch training?"

After dinner Hermione insisted on seeing the dream that had brought Harry into the infirmary on Monday night.

"Pick the dream and show me," she demanded. "There's absolutely nothing that can prevent me from seeing that dream!"

Ron nodded fiercely and shoved Hermione further onto Harry's bed so he could sit on it as well.

"Yeah, I want to see it, too."

Harry sighed. "But I'll come with you. Without a wand you would have to wait until it's all finished."

Hermione and Ron nodded. Shaking his head slightly, Harry gave in. He took the Dream Catcher, spelled the curtains around his bed shut and prodded the liquid in the Dream Catcher with his wand.

"Okay, let's go," he whispered.

It was the first time for Harry that he watched the dream again. He grabbed Hermione's hand tightly when Voldemort punished his Death Eaters and heard Ron mutter shocked profanities when the Dark Lord slashed Lucius Malfoy's palm. It was a record, not the real experience, and Harry eventually relaxed because he didn't feel the original intense emotions. He explained what Voldemort had felt while talking to Malfoy. He couldn't help but notice how lovingly Voldemort stroked Malfoy's open palm, and this along with Harry's memory of Voldemort's intense emotions convinced him that Voldemort harboured some kind of sick love for his most trusted Death Eater.

After the dream the three sat on Harry's bed, staring at each other but not daring to say a word. Eventually Harry did so, however.

"Well … what do you think?" he asked tentatively. "Gross, isn't it?"

"Ugh," moaned Ron, "I think I'm going to be sick …" He got up rather quickly and hurried to the bathroom.

"That wasn't pretty," said Hermione shakily. "I didn't believe you … How foolish." Her face was pale and she shuddered slightly. Both Ron and she were badly shaken about the Cruciatus incident with Nott senior.

"You should know that I'm hardly exaggerating when it comes to Voldemort," said Harry in a slightly reprimanding tone. "But now you know what I meant. I don't know what happened but Voldemort obviously thought that I should see it."

"Maybe he thinks that _you_ know something," she replied softly. "Maybe he wants to make you panic and then search your mind for it."

"Well, then he's in for a disappointment," said Harry sharply. "Thanks to Dumbledore I don't know anything."

"That's a good thing right now," Hermione reminded him sternly. "But those dreams are …" She shuddered again and didn't finish her sentence.

After a few minutes a pale Ron came back and squeezed on the bed. "Sorry guys," he mumbled. "My dinner was disagreeing with me."

Harry just smiled faintly. It was still early, but they felt exhausted and tired. Not even Hermione had done much of her remaining homework. After all the ruckus today no one could blame her.

"I'm going to sleep," said Harry finally. "Thanks for distracting Snape, 'Mione. Now it's only one more hour on Friday and then we're free for two delicious weeks."

She blushed. "I'm so glad I could help you guys. Good night." She hugged her two best friends and left the dorm, claiming that she wanted to do some lighter reading before heading to bed.

Ron and Harry just shrugged. It was still relatively early, but both felt too tired even to play some Exploding Snap. Harry just washed up, brushed his teeth and climbed into bed. He felt he would be lucky if he were able to do his Occlumency training tonight. With trepidation he thought about his lesson on Friday. Fortunately Ron's even breathing and a little later his soft snoring helped Harry a great deal to relax. In no time he was sleeping as well, dreaming of the green meadow he had seen during his Divination class that day.

------------

Thursday morning was fun. Harry and Ron woke up so ridiculously early that they decided to slip a Quidditch practice in before breakfast. It was still dark on the pitch and Harry knew he would never find the Snitch. Therefore he and Ron decided simply to throw a Quaffle and test their reflexes.

It was freezing cold, and the sky was clear of clouds. They both ignited the tips of their wands with the Lumos Charm so they could at least see each other on the dark Quidditch pitch. For almost an hour they threw the Quaffle and amused themselves with diving after it and catching it. Then it became time for a much needed shower (they had sweated quite a bit under their heavy Quidditch gear and robes and cloaks) and they headed back to their common room. On their way they saw some Kneazles slinking through the frost bitten grass, bushy tails high in the air.

During breakfast they were the most awake students by far. The others blinked at Harry and Ron groggily when they chirped their morning greetings and ate for two, each. Snape sat at the High Table and brooded over a cup of coffee. His black eyes stared sometimes at Hermione, but most of the time he glared at nothing in particular.

The mail brought a pleasant surprise for the DA members. Ron's brothers Fred and George sent them an owl which carried a cheerful letter and several shrunken boxes of their tricks and jokes. Harry and Ron put them into their pockets and decided to look through them when lessons were over.

Professor Blackadder welcomed them to their first lesson with a cheerful smile on her face and an ugly wreath made of fir twigs, sprigs of mistletoe, red berries and chamomile on her head. They all gaped at her while putting their homework on her desk. Even Hermione didn't attempt to hide her scornful smirk.

"Good morning, class," said Professor Blackadder cheerfully. "As you can see I'm wearing a wreath today. This wreath is supposed to ignite the spirit of love and family in me and other people."

Several students snorted at that. No one bothered to tell her that the wreath was more likely going to ignite scoffing and rude laughter. Harry fingered his notes about a very strong deflector spell against most jinxes and hexes and longed to read them.

"Today's assignment will be to make such a wreath of your own. You'll work alone and you'll write a short essay about the uses of the individual plants, and, of course, their combined effect. Get started," said Professor Blackadder graciously.

Class went downhill from there. Harry cursed Professor Blackadder for foiling his plans to learn something useful. Lavender and Parvati behind him gossiped about Mortimer Flanders, a seventh year Hufflepuff who was apparently involved with Eloise Midgeon since last week. During the first break he tried to read as much about the spell as possible before the nightmare of that crazy class continued.

Seeing that Harry had always been quite skilful at working with his hands, his wreath was finished in the first half of the second period. In the first period he had written the stupid essay. And to top it off he charmed the wreath with the Cheering Charm. Professor Blackadder would have her fun with it, and maybe he would even get a good mark for it.

In Charms Professor Flitwick let them play and asked Harry and Hermione about the progress in their training. Harry didn't tell Flitwick that the DA had been revived but made a compromise and told him about the secret curriculum Hermione had made and that he taught his own year mates. He also cleverly mentioned that they had given the curriculum to the other Prefects. It might prove helpful in their later careers. By now Harry was Slytherin enough to use his options to his advantage.

History of Magic, however, was so boring that Harry and Ron almost instantly dozed off. Harry really tried to get to his notes for the deflector spell, but Binns' high, brittle voice made him sleepy before he could read the first word of the text. And he couldn't use his wand to try the spell out, either. Later, at lunch, he defended himself with the classic "I couldn't do anything to prevent it!" and Hermione's withering glare softened a bit.

The last hour of History of Magic blended in with the equally languid afternoon. Nothing really mattered anymore – tomorrow was Friday and on Saturday they would all go home for the holidays and enjoy the last few days before Christmas. Harry still hadn't gotten notice from either Sirius or Dumbledore about how he would go to Grimmauld Place. He guessed he wasn't supposed to take the train, a safety measure to deceive the Death Eaters and Voldemort. The longer they believed he would be at Hogwarts the better it was.

Harry thought about Sirius' plan to take him to Muggle London to buy him clothes and anything he wanted (he wasn't having illusions; Sirius took it quite seriously when it came to coddling his godson). It was a risk and he was planning to take Sirius and Remus to the restaurant Hermione had recommended, too.

He shouldn't be so strict with himself and others, he thought. He hadn't seen his godfathers in a long time, and he was overjoyed that he would be in their company, soon. He didn't always agree with Sirius when he went on and on about taking risks and having some fun. But what would his life be if he never lived it, anyway? What if he died before he had a chance to really live?

Reading the last few chapters in his Occlumency book was strangely easy. He was so focused that he practically absorbed the words about constructing deception methods, traps and even small images. He sat in the common room for once and enjoyed the warmth of the fire, together with Hermione who read further about Wicca holidays and power circles. The DA members (that was almost everybody in Gryffindor from year five up, anyway) were seated around him and shielded him subconsciously. It was a feeling like having a pack of lions lying around, protecting him.

The crackling fire was the only sound in the room full of studying Gryffindors. Even Dennis and Colin, who were almost constantly running around, had their noses in a book tonight. It was as if they wanted to make up for the missing DA meeting this weekend. Harry couldn't remember when he had been any more proud in his entire life.

And at night he made use of his clear head and tried to construct a defence mechanism. It was harder than it read, but then again he hadn't had that much confidence in his own abilities for a long while.

Transfigurations first thing in the morning was fun – if one wasn't Hermione. She explained to Professor McGonagall what was wrong with her wand and that she had to get a new one. It mortified her that more than half of the Ravenclaws and a handful Gryffindors were now able to do the apple-to-tree transfiguration. Harry comforted her by telling her that she could get a new wand as soon as she was stepping out of the Hogwarts Express. He was also careful to let drop a few lines that suggested that he was staying this year again.

It proved very useful when they stood together with the Slytherins in front of Hagrid's hut and Pansy was gloating about her wonderful holiday plans.

"I'm going to Switzerland with my parents," she said loudly. "Skiing and so on. It will be great!"

Malfoy glanced at Harry. "I bet. Unlike other people we have a life outside of Hogwarts."

Harry pretended to be affronted and pressed his lips together in what he hoped was a convincing thin line of anger.

"At least Harry won't have to see the Dark Lord's lap dogs while he's here," snapped Ron, not quite pretending to be all riled up.

Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. "I'm sure he'll have a wonderful Christmas, Parkinson," she said.

"Being alone is so wonderful, right," sneered Pansy maliciously. "What's up with you, anyway? Does the family that treats you like a king suddenly not want you anymore?" Some Slytherins snickered cruelly. "Maybe they found out what a freak you really are!" she crowed.

Harry's anger boiled up and he was truly inclined to tell her what a hell his family was. But Hermione's elbow reminded him not to do that. Giving ammunition to the Slytherins was as good as a free ticket to Voldemort.

"I wonder why Parkinson has to go to Switzerland," said Seamus loudly. "Maybe her face is too ugly for England."

Parvati, Lavender and Blaise snickered at that. Nott, who was observing Hermione closely, now threatened to hex Seamus, only to be held back by four other wands that pointed at his chest.

Fortunately Hagrid disrupted whatever was about to happen. Harry, Neville, Hermione and Dean skilfully let their wands disappear in their sleeves. Nott stood there like an idiot, pointing his wand tip at Seamus.

"What's going on 'ere?" Hagrid asked sharply. "Five points from Slytherin, Nott! Put that away."

The Slytherins hissed at the Gryffindors, now experiencing injustice at its best. Harry and the others feigned shocked innocence and smirked at them behind Hagrid's back. It was too good to have their roles reversed for once.

Seamus blew his boyfriend a cocky kiss and Blaise was just about to respond (Harry still didn't know if he was going to kiss or punch him on such occasions) when Hagrid called them behind his hut where the whole bunch of Kneazles sat. A field of red tails waved at them lightly, some of the animals were even mewing softly.

"Terday we'll play a bit with the Kneazles," announced Hagrid. "Yer should know 'em already. Watch out fer their claws."

Hermione squealed in delight and petted a Kneazle that jumped trustfully into her arms. Harry and Ron had no problems at all to find one they could pet because they already knew them.

Malfoy eyed the Kneazles suspiciously. "Somehow I think Potter bewitched his Kneazle," he sneered. "It's too tame."

Pansy, who had just been clawed by one, hissed in agreement. She wrapped her bleeding hand in a handkerchief, all the while whimpering about the pain.

Hagrid laughed his booming laugh. "Malfoy, that's the most stupid thing I've ever heard," he said. "Kneazles can't be tamed. They either trust yer or they don'. Just try it! Go on."

Malfoy frowned and looked at some Kneazles that were slinking around the other students in lazy circles. He kneeled down and tried to lure one within his reach. Harry watched him, intrigued that Malfoy was so lenient today. Maybe he was just cold. Purring, a fat Kneazle jumped right into his arms and demanded to be petted. It clawed into his cloak and robes and trod joyfully when Malfoy started to scratch its ears.

"Awww, how cute," cooed Parvati, stroking her own Kneazle. "Look, Malfoy looks so nice with that Kneazle!"

Malfoy ignored her, hoisted the Kneazle up and walked over to Blaise and Nott. Millicent joined them and patted the animal on its big, fluffy head.

Hermione giggled. "He got the biggest Kneazle from the whole bunch. I wonder how long he will be able to hold it like that."

Ron snickered. "Yeah, it looks like he's holding a _huge_ baby."

Malfoy threw him a withering glare. Pansy, however, thought it a wonderful idea and rushed over to him, trying to pet the Kneazle, too. Even Hagrid chuckled when a sharp hiss and a low, menacing meow sounded through the winter air.

"I've never seen a baby that lashed out like this!" gasped Dean in obvious amusement. "But it figures that the Malfoy snappiness will be given down to the heir."

Harry crooned soft nonsense in the ears of his Kneazle, rubbing its back affectionately. It rolled like a lovely kitten in his arms, conversing in soft meows with Ron's and Hermione's Kneazles.

After a while only Crabbe and Goyle stomped through the snow, trying to catch a Kneazle. But the rest of the bunch hopped elegantly out of their reach, waving their tails mockingly. Pansy glared at the lot, still holding her bloody hand. Hagrid watched the class contentedly. Harry used the opportunity and crept up to him. He still wanted to know what had happened to the Centaurs.

"Hagrid?" he asked quietly. "Can I ask you something?"

"What is it, 'Arry?" Hagrid looked down at him with slight worry in his eyes.

Harry shuffled a bit, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, as if the loss of the Centaurs was something forbidden. The Kneazle in his arms pressed closer as the wind blew harder.

"I was wondering … uhm … what happened with the Centaurs, Hagrid? Why aren't they in the forest anymore?"

Hagrid became very still. His eyes froze on Harry's face, and even the Kneazle stiffened. "That's nothing, 'Arry, nothing …" Hagrid looked around nervously.

"Tell me!" hissed Harry. "Why aren't the Centaurs here anymore? Are they gone because they feel betrayed by Dumbledore?"

"It's not safe–," said Hagrid quickly.

"I can't come down here today," said Harry urgently. "I have lessons with Snape. Tell me Hagrid, or it will eat me up over the holidays!"

Hermione and Ron squealed when their Kneazles suddenly jumped up and started a huge Kneazle chase in the snow. Harry was glad for the distraction.

"Tell me," he said again, looking Hagrid intently in the eyes.

"Okay, but yer mustn't tell anybody else!"

"I promise." Harry looked anxiously at the students and Kneazles that ran like mad through the snow.

"It wasn't safe anymore," whispered Hagrid, leaning down a bit. "They fled because a pack of beasts settled deep in the forest …"

"The Sandwolves?" Harry asked immediately. "But we saw them and they were quite okay with us, weren't they?"

"No, not the Sandwolves," muttered Hagrid quickly. "They came with the Sandwolves, but they're not 'em. They're ancient creatures, very old, very wise … But also very, very dangerous."

"What's their name?" Now Harry was intrigued. He cradled the Kneazle in his arms tighter and stroked it softly.

"Yer mustn't search for 'em, ever. They'll eat yer alive an' not even yer can stand up ter 'em," said Hagrid sternly, fearfully. "Promise me yer'll never do that."

"I promise, but what's their _name_?" asked Harry, getting frustrated now. "What is powerful enough to chase a herd of Centaurs away?"

"I can't tell, it's like a curse," said Hagrid. The shudder in his deep, grumbling voice was clearly audible now. "Call 'em by their names an' they'll come after yer until they've shredded yer ter bits. Yer' not supposed ter see 'em, or know their name."

"They are like Voldemort?" whispered Harry. "Are they that evil?"

"N-not evil," said Hagrid quickly, "but they see every fault an' every lie and they'll kill yer if yer' not pure to 'em."

"But why did you bring us into the forest, then?" hissed Harry in disbelief.

"They live in the deepest depths of the forest," replied Hagrid quickly. "They never come 'ere, not even near to Aragog. Don't worry."

"Okay," whispered Harry. He felt all tensed up and uncomfortable. But he trusted Hagrid when he told him that those mysterious beasts never came onto the Hogwarts grounds.

He went back to his friends and let his Kneazle play with the others. Malfoy, however, clutched his Kneazle tightly and petted it softly on the head, the flanks and under its chin. It really seemed to enjoy all the attention it got. And it held Pansy at bay. She sulked around Malfoy and tried to coax him into letting the Kneazle run along with the others.

Hermione and Ron stood silently by Harry's side, supporting him in whatever way he needed. Of course, being the most intelligent girl in Gryffindor and probably the whole school, Hermione had seen Harry's troubled face and wondered what Hagrid might have said to make him worry like that.

But Harry didn't feel like sharing that titbit of information. He hadn't only promised Hagrid to keep it silent but he also had not the remotest idea what that mysterious beast could be. Hell, he couldn't even start to imagine what it might look like, or what powers it had.

Those enjoyable hours in the snow were over far too soon. Now they had Advanced Potions with Snape. As always Harry wasn't too encouraged about an encounter with Snape in class. There was the possibility of class being calmer because of Snape and Hermione's huge row on Wednesday, but he wouldn't and couldn't count on it. Snape always managed to surprise him, and not in good ways.

The walk back into the castle was quite loud and cheery – Harry totally understood that. Ron, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Neville and Parvati now had a free period and could warm themselves up with a nice, hot chocolate, whereas he and Hermione, Malfoy and Blaise would go to the Potions classroom and face the most evil teacher of the school.

Some Kneazles went with them over the white lawn, leaving footprints in the white cover. Their bushy, rust red tails wriggled left and right. Harry felt touched and wondered if that was the way of Kneazles to say that they wanted to help them fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

At the entrance portal Harry petted his Kneazle one last time on the head and under the chin. Malfoy was having more trouble. His Kneazle wriggled in his arms and meowed loudly. Malfoy wanted to dump it into Pansy's arms, but the Kneazle refused to take its claws out of his cloak. Nott tried to pry it out of his arms, only to receive a hefty lash at his face. Ron started to laugh at the dance the blonde and his friends made, and Seamus and Dean were calling mirthfully for Colin and Dennis to immortalise the godly funny scene on celluloid.

After five minutes Harry had enough. He put his Kneazle on the ground and walked over to Malfoy.

"Honestly, you can't even handle a Kneazle, Malfoy. If I could I would take points for that." He held his hands out. "Give it to me."

Malfoy glared at him. "Almighty Potter, eh? Do you think all beasts are listening to you?" He turned away, only to stare Pansy in the eyes.

"Well, if you want to carry that Kneazle around all day, be my guest," said Harry nonchalantly. "It _does_ look like you're carrying your baby. I'm sure the girls would like your new self."

Pansy's eyes watered ominously, and Malfoy quickly turned around to Harry again, uttering a sound of disgust.

"I know I'd like it," grinned Harry.

Malfoy snarled in fury and stepped closer. "Shut your trap, Potter," he hissed. "I don't give a damn about what _you_ like!" He held the purring Kneazle out to Harry. Surprisingly it took its claws out of Malfoy's expensive cloak and happily wiggled over to Harry, making itself comfortable in his hands.

Harry took it completely in his arms and stroked it lovingly. "You know, Malfoy, for a cold hearted bastard you seemed to like the Kneazle an awful lot."

Malfoy glared at the treacherous animal. "I did not. It was a good security measure against Parkinson," said Malfoy coolly. The girl bristled slightly.

"Whatever," said Harry. He let the Kneazle jump to its friend. "The Kneazle seemed to like _you_ well enough. It didn't even want to leave you."

Suddenly he noticed how alike the eyes of Lucius Malfoy and his son were. The same silver grey eyes stared at him in contempt. Hermione had seen the resemblance first, but Lucius Malfoy seemed to possess _something_ that compelled heads to turn his way and made people stare, unlike his son who was admittedly handsome but didn't seem special in any way.

Crabbe and Goyle trampled past them and entered the castle. They were followed by Parvati, Lavender, Neville and Millicent Bulstrode. Nott (who looked like a ratty, too-thin dog in his slightly too-short robes) threw a last glare at Hermione and went in, too.

"What are you staring at, Potter?" Malfoy asked, clearly annoyed.

"Oh, nothing. Just wondering if you should dye your lashes. It would bring your eyes out more." Harry smirked. Ron and Seamus behind him snickeredin mirth.

Malfoy blushed violently. "Your dirty little jokes are getting worse every single time," he hissed.

"Along with your composure," replied Harry, smirking. His green eyes twinkled with mirth. "And you're so pretty when you're mad."

Now even Hermione and Blaise surrendered to the fit of giggles they had buried in their throats.

"I. Hate. You," grunted Malfoy. He turned on his heel and stalked toward the castle.

"O-_ooh_, wonderful," gasped Ron. "His _look_ was simply–"

"Hilarious," finished Dean, clutching his sides in an attempt to calm down.

Seamus grabbed Blaise and kissed him soundly, still giggling like mad.

Hermione chuckled. "You're evil, Harry," she scolded playfully. "The poor ferret was completely at a loss."

"That was the intention," said Harry proudly. "Maybe he thinks I'm crazy for saying what I did, but if it pushes his buttons …"

They both stumbled into the castle and headed to Gryffindor Tower to change their wet cloaks and shoes. They hadn't had homework yesterday, and Harry felt good, despite the looming terror of another lesson in Occlumency tonight.

"Do you think he'll be mean to me today, again?" asked Hermione quietly when they were going down to the dungeons.

"He'd better not," said Harry firmly. "But I suppose the meeting with Dumbledore should've been good for something at least."

They arrived at their classroom door. Hannah Abbott and Ernie McMillan were already there and talking quietly with Luna. Terry arrived shortly after them. Blaise and Malfoy came to them when only one minute was left. Blaise looked at Harry accusingly while Malfoy's lips were still pressed together tightly. He seemed unduly distressed, but Harry refused to feel guilty about that.

Then Snape yanked the door open from the inside and barked at the students to get in. His black gaze fell on Hermione very often, but today he made no snide remarks. Instead he told them what they would be doing in the second term and what their homework for the holidays was. Harry cursed silently. Trust Snape to find something to make their break miserable.

"Is there a problem with your task, Mr Potter?" Snape asked and glided elegantly through the room.

"Yes," said Harry. "I think you just want to make our holidays miserable, _Sir_." He shrugged. "But well, it's your class."

"Indeed, Mr Potter," sneered Snape. "And I'm overjoyed to inform you that you'll still have to do the assignment, although your little, rebellious mind is revolting at the idea."

Harry smirked slightly. "Well, I know who I can ask if I don't understand something." He looked pointedly at Snape, then at Hermione, and then sneered. "There is, after all, no one better, is there?"

Snape glared at him for the veiled insult. Malfoy raised his hand, and his smug expression told Harry that it wouldn't be pretty what he was about to say.

"Sir, is Potter still taking remedial Potions with you?" he asked in his low voice. "He'll need all the help he can get, won't he?"

Snape sneered unpleasantly. "Yes, he is. Unfortunately he's not getting much better."

Hannah, Ernie and Terry looked slightly put out about the insult; Harry had told them about the Occlumency lessons and that the remedial Potions thing was only the cover for them.

"Must be the teacher, then," said Harry airily. "Whenever I ask Hermione to explain something I understand it. As I said, there's no one better to ask."

The tension in the room became thicker. Terry flinched whenever Snape moved, Malfoy was glaring daggers at Harry, and Hannah and Ernie looked at Harry with apprehension. Only Luna seemed to be unconcerned and even a bit cheerful.

Thankfully the bell rang at that moment. Harry stuffed his things into his bag and left the room. Not too quickly but not too slowly, either. He didn't want to earn a detention on his last day of school. There was still the Occlumency lesson tonight – the suitable place for insults and threats of all kinds. And at least Hermione had been safe today.

At lunch Harry was a bit quieter than usual. He thought about his plans for Christmas, and if it really was such a good idea to take his two godfathers out for dinner. Then there was Snape's mean holiday assignment and, of course, Voldemort in general. The papers didn't bring anything new about him, but Harry and his friends knew that Voldemort let the Ministry do his work. And Fudge was doing it quite well.

The DA had often wondered if Fudge was just a moron or if he was secretly associating with Voldemort. That he had allowed Umbridge back was just one of those things. What he allowed her to do was quite another. They had thought Fudge was just stupid and scared of Dumbledore. But now things seemed different, and Harry thought woefully that black and white was far more easy to handle than grey in all its shades. It forced them to make dubious allies and consider everything threefold.

Hermione suggested that they could get a start on their Potions assignment, and Harry agreed wholeheartedly. He didn't have the books at Grimmauld Place to do it as well as in Hogwarts and he really didn't want to feed Snape's hate of him by not taking his homework seriously.

So they went into the library while Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville all skulked down to the dungeons. Hermione searched with practised ease for the books they would need and Harry secured them a nice, large table in the middle of the library. He would have to copy a lot out of the books and quickly multiplied his stack of parchment with a simple spell, unknown to most of the students.

Hermione was back soon enough and hoisted a huge amount of books on the table. "I'll search for the entries and you'll copy them," she said. "Then we can bring those monsters back and deal with the assignment."

"Fine with me," replied Harry gratefully.

A little bit later Blaise and Luna joined them and made the study group perfect. The two helped Hermione find valuable sources and Harry copied them. Unfortunately they needed all afternoon for that, and only then was Hermione satisfied. Harry sighed in relief and made everybody a copy of their bounty. Then they decided to go to dinner early. On their way Blaise came up to Harry.

"Do you think you'll live through the Snape torture tonight?" Blaise asked. "He was really, really mad at you."

"I don't know," said Harry truthfully. "But I guess I'll find out."

"Ouch. Are you a masochist or what?" joked Blaise and flipped a strand of his hair over his shoulder.

Harry leaned a bit closer. "Well, Snape and I always fight when we're having these lessons. It's nothing new anyway. It's like … relieving stress, you know?"

"Well, then he needs you just as much as you need him," said Blaise.

"I would just send him into the desert so he can scream himself all right," laughed Harry. "I guess he really needs to behead someone every now and then."

"One would think _The Wednesday_ was enough for the time being." Blaise shrugged. "But I guess not. Anyway, good luck for tonight, mate."

They entered the Great Hall and headed for their respective tables. Blaise was alone right now, but Harry saw Seamus sauntering in and wasn't concerned about his friend. The lover would be much better company than he until the rest of the student body came in.

"So, what do you think?" Hermione asked and shovelled some salad on her plate. "How will you go to you-know-where?"

"I don't know," said Harry. "I think Dumbledore will wait until the last minute possible. Voldemort could have his spies anywhere."

"Yes. Who knows what can happen in one night." Hermione looked deeply into his eyes, and then smiled a quirky little smile. "Besides, we don't want to give Malfoy a reason for a heart attack, now do we?"

"It would be funnier if Parkinson would get the heart attack," Harry pointed out. "She was the one gloating."

"Oh. Yes." Hermione didn't look as if she truly cared which of the Slytherins had insulted Harry.

Then Neville, Parvati, Lavender, Colin, Dennis and Ginny stormed the table and seated themselves around the two. Ron was a little bit too late and had to put up with Lee Jordan and a persistent second year that immediately started talking about Quidditch. Being the captain of the team obligated Ron to appear interested and encouraging although his pained face told everybody that he wasn't enjoying the overenthusiastic fan one bit.

"Grapes, Harry?" Parvati asked sweetly.

Harry, who hadn't been paying attention, startled. "Huh? Oh, yes, thank you."

He took the offered bowl of grapes and slowly started to eat them. He was half listening to the ranting of the second year boy and half thinking about things that needed to be done in the holidays and in the next few months. In his trunk lay a list. It was quite long by now, outlining that he needed to search for new, strong attack and defence spells, a Pensieve, Wiccans who were willing to assist Luna and, most important, Voldemort's true plan.

Tonight his bunch of friends needed longer to eat than usual. They were loud and cheerful, and he didn't begrudge them their time off from their worries. It was ten to eight when he stood and made his excuses. Ginny offered to come with him but he waved it off. His wand was in his jeans pocket (Moody would have a fit if he knew that he was still doing it) and he felt fine. As fine as one could be when it was time to go down into the serpent's lair.

Snape hadn't been sitting at the High Table, Harry observed. This was the fifth time in the last week that he had skipped it. Harry suspected that Snape was brooding over something (Hermione) or working on some potion (maybe Veritaserum for the next Slytherin/Gryffindor class) or preparing for a particularly tiring lesson for Harry. Although Harry had to admit that no one in their right mind would skip dinner just to make his life miserable. Maybe he was thinking so much about Voldemort and everything that he simply forgot to eat.

"Man, I'm _not_ worrying over Snape," muttered Harry grumpily.

He strode down the long corridors and ignored some straggling students who were giving him suspicious looks. Finally at Snape's office door he swiftly pulled his wand out and knocked.

"Enter," said Snape in his deep, silky voice. "And put that wand away."

Harry just snorted. It figured that Snape knew him so well. He lowered his wand but held it tightly in his fist, ready to strike the moment Snape attacked him. Then he entered quickly.

"Take a seat, Potter, and kindly close the door." Snape's sneer was very audible.

Harry slammed the door and slouched in his most offending manner over to the chair. "That's the second time that you're stalling our lesson," he said coolly. "Any particular reason?"

Snape glared at him. "Watch your tongue, Potter, or I'll gladly add another three hundred points to your negative."

Harry just shrugged and shifted impatiently in his seat. He noticed that Snape looked still rather murderous. Harry wondered what Hermione had said to him and if he should stop being so rebellious.

"Well? Why did I have to come here if not for training?"

"I decided to spare us both the sentiments of the last lesson before the holidays," said Snape smoothly, smirking unpleasantly. "Instead I'll just come and visit you. Any time is possible, Potter, so you'd better be prepared."

"Just wonderful," muttered Harry, glaring at Snape. "Why can't you stay at home over Christmas like every other person?" He sneered. "But maybe dinner will be fun, having you and Sirius there …"

Snape's lips tightened but he didn't respond to the jibe. Instead he actually tried to sound sufficiently reasonable. "You should take this seriously, Potter. We have no time to spare, and the actual reason why I'm letting you out tonight is, of course, that the Dark Lord won't guess where you are hiding over the break. It would prove fatal to all of our plans if he found you."

"Of course it would," said Harry airily and just a bit scornfully. "Was that all, Professor?"

"You may go," replied Snape snarkily.

Harry smirked. "How generous. Good night."

He stood and marched out of the office. This unexpected free night allowed him to start on a new book, now about Legilimency and tactics for using it. Now that the icy clump in his stomach had melted away he was suddenly feeling very hungry. He decided to visit the kitchen and grab a snack from Dobby and his friends.

The House Elves were all hyper as far as Harry could see. How else would one explain the astoundingly huge amount of sandwiches, pancakes with chocolate bits, hot chocolate and sweets of all sorts? He stuffed a generous amount of sweets in his pockets, ate as much as he could and then took his leave. He already had bought and wrapped up the most mismatched and ugly socks he could find for Dobby. Hopefully the elf would like them.

He swiftly thought about going into the Room of Requirement but decided against it. He would just curl up on a sofa and block out his housemates.

Hermione and Ron were surprised to see him back so soon. They cornered Harry immediately and asked quietly what he had done to Snape to be back so early.

"Nothing," said Harry, snickering at their incredulity. "He said he would not take the chance of Voldemort raiding my mind tonight. Instead he will visit Snuffles, Moony and me during the holidays." He grinned even more broadly. "And I already told him what fun it will be to have him over for dinner."

"Somehow I have the feeling that Moony and you will be the only ones to enjoy that," muttered Hermione and rolled her eyes.

"Hopefully Snape won't stay for dinner," said Ron. "Just imagine having the greasy git there on Christmas Eve."

"Ron," scolded Hermione. "Prejudices against persons just make the matter worse. I bet if we weren't so hostile against Snape he would let his guard down a bit."

"Who would want that?" countered Ron snidely.

Harry snickered. "What would he do if we were disgustingly nice to him all of a sudden?"

"Get a heart attack," said Ron.

"Be even more snarky," added Hermione. "But it would be worth a shot."

Ron raised both eyebrows. "Are you masochistic or what?"

Hermione slapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Of course not! But driving him a bit mad will be fun."

"Advanced Potions," said Harry thoughtfully. "The ideal time and place to creep him out."

Ron just shook his head. Harry skipped up to their dorm to retrieve his book about Legilimency and some cookies. Dobby had been very generous with them, leaving a huge packet of them on each nightstand. Once again in the common room Harry sat on the sofa that stood in front of the fireplace and curled up comfortably. Hermione disappeared to her own dorm to pack her bags for tomorrow. Ron, who was bored to death, followed her example. Harry thought it rather wise of him to start packing now because Ron had strewn his belongings everywhere in the dorm.

Sighing contentedly, he finally focused his attention on the book in his lap and started reading.

On this night Harry was the first to go to bed. He had read the first chapter of the book and was anxious to try out what he had learned. It was just visualising, nothing serious. The main problem would be to try out the actual penetration of another's mind. He only had Snape for practice, and the man wouldn't make it easy for him. But the more finesse he gained the more he would be able to make Snape sweat. At eleven o'clock the others came into the dorm, but Harry was already asleep and didn't hear them.

---------

Harry woke up pretty early on Saturday. He stretched happily and enjoyed the first rays of the sun on his face. The Dream Catcher on his nightstand gleamed. Harry put his glasses on, took his wand, whirled the strange mist with the tip and then plunged in bravely. He might forget his dreams the next morning, but the Dream Catcher held them all. And what a good thing it was. But he was relieved to find out that Voldemort hadn't been in his dreams, however remotely concerned. He had apparently dreamed of the meadow that he had seen in the water bowl during Divination. But it didn't rouse any feelings in him, so he dismissed it as highly unimportant. And while he was at it, he removed some unimportant dreams from the Dream Catcher to make room for new ones.

With a wry chuckle he realised that his nightstand would soon be full with bowls. First the Dream Catcher, then a Pensieve … but he knew better than to brood over things like that. It was how it was, and he knew he should really be thankful for still being alive.

After finishing with his Dream Catcher he went into the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth. When he was finished the other boys were just waking up. Harry smirked. It would be nice to get the best treats for breakfast for once. He dressed in Muggle jeans, a black, tight pullover and his cloak and left the tower. Hermione met with him on the second floor and chirped her greetings.

"Why are you so chipper?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just happy to go home today." Hermione practically skipped, and her smile could have lit the hallway.

The boundaries of her good mood even extended to a sprig of mistletoe she and Harry ran into.

Hermione just giggled and pecked Harry on the lips. "You know, you're really cute, Harry," she said lightly.

A little bit confused Harry led his friend down to the Great Hall. Kissing Hermione didn't affect him at all; it was like a sister or beloved cousin kissing him. Nice but without any romantic intentions. The Christmas bug must have bitten her rather badly, he pondered, because she happily greeted several DA members on their way down.

When they were seated at Gryffindor table they both drank a cup of coffee first before grabbing oatmeal and rolls. The majority of their housemates joined them just as the owls were coming in and delivered the mail.

Thanks to the mirror Sirius and Harry now used frequently to keep in touch he rarely received mail anymore. But today Hedwig swooped down at him and threw a piece of parchment onto his plate. Harry thanked her and unfolded it.

"Who's that from?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Dumbledore," replied Harry. "He wants to see me after breakfast."

He stuffed the note into his pocket and resumed eating his buttered roll. He looked up once and saw two people looking at him. The first was Cho Chang. She looked at him intently, her dark eyes betraying nothing of what she might be feeling. The other was Draco Malfoy. His expression was easy to recognise. He was gloating.

Harry just raised an eyebrow and suggestively took a swig of his pumpkin juice. Licking his lips he smirked slightly at the blonde, and as expected Malfoy blushed and looked quickly away.

"What the heck is going on with him?" asked Seamus. "It looks almost as if he's fancying you, Harry."

"God, no," laughed Harry. "He's just feeling a little homophobic, I guess."

He and Seamus snickered a bit and watched Malfoy squirm in his seat. Pansy was glaring at them, along with Nott, Crabbe and Goyle. Harry almost felt like waving at Malfoy, or winking or doing something equally insane. It was just too funny to see the blonde all flustered.

Neville and Parvati watched Harry and Seamus and just shook their heads. Seamus then concentrated on his boyfriend who had just entered the Great Hall and strode to where Malfoy was sitting. He pushed Pansy away and squeezed himself onto the bench. Harry caught Cho glowering at him, her delicate eyebrows furrowed and she was whispering furiously to Marietta, her friend who had given away the DA last year.

Ron nudged Harry and pointed Cho's behaviour out, but Harry just shrugged and waved it off. He was in no way inclined to prolong the Cho-disaster. After finishing his second roll he stood up and left the table. He wanted to pack some clothes and his most important possessions.

When he got out of the Great Hall, Colin and Dennis came in. They wanted to talk to him, but he quickly dodged them and ran up the stairs. Barging through the portrait hole he immediately climbed up the stairs to his dorm and yanked out a travelling bag. He stuffed some shirts, pullovers and pairs of socks in, then searched for underwear. He would leave most of his clothes here; Sirius wanted to go shopping with him anyway, and then he could dispose of Dudley's awful hand-me-downs at last.

He also hoped that Remus and the other people from the Order of Phoenix had managed to get the books he had asked for. Thinking about his goals for this holiday he put his Dream Catcher in a box and then placed it in a corner of his bag. He was finished quickly; he didn't possess so much that it would take hours to pack it away. Besides, he was used to having only the most important things with him. Living with the Dursleys had certainly seen to that.

It was twenty to ten when his dorm mates stormed the room and frantically started to put the last of their things together. Harry had hidden his bag under his bed and watched them, seemingly unconcerned. He helped Neville to stow his pullovers in his trunk and found Dean's magazine about the English national football team.

"Oh, thank you, Harry," said Dean distractedly. "This is the last edition where they say that David Beckham is still in Manchester United … he's now in Real Madrid, you know …"

He bustled around the room and flung his socks on top of his other clothes. Ron in the meanwhile was trying to spell his trunk shut, unfortunately with minor success. Seamus was already finished and proceeded to drag his trunk out of the door.

"I'm going, I have yet to kiss my lovely boyfriend good morning." He winked and left, putting a Featherweight Charm on his luggage.

Then Hermione poked her head in and giggled about Ron's attempts to tame his overloaded trunk.

"Here, let me do this," she said sweetly. She opened the trunk, regarded its contents and then just shrank the half of it. "Honestly Ron. What's not fitting right away we can make fit in."

Ron had the decency to look flustered at his lack of creativity (although Hermione gladly certified it to a huge amount of laziness and single-mindedness on Ron's part, which, according to her, should have led to astounding results in daily life magic) while Dean and Harry muffled their chuckles.

"Oh, Harry, aren't you supposed to go to Dumbledore?" Hermione asked finally.

Harry looked at his watch, then nodded. "I'm on time. Thanks." He jumped off his bed. "I hope I'll all catch you at the train station. If not, happy holidays and a merry Christmas!" He left the dorm room and made his way to Dumbledore's office.

"Bouncing Butterflies," he said pleasantly to the stone gargoyle.

Riding up the stairs he wondered when his godfather would come and get him. Or if somebody else was going to take him to Grimmauld Place. It was, after all, still very dangerous for Sirius to be out and about.

Dumbledore smiled when Harry entered his office. He offered him a seat, tea and sweets before he finally came to the reason for his call.

"As you know, my dear boy, your godfather asked to take you in for Christmas. I know how important it is for you to spend time with him, therefore I allowed it."

Harry shifted impatiently in his seat and wished that Dumbledore would come to the bottom of this conversation soon.

"However, I must warn you not to go out with him in the wizarding world. You may visit the Muggle side of London, but no wizard must see you, Harry. We have to mislead Voldemort and his followers for as long as possible."

"I understand, Sir," said Harry a bit breathlessly, now wriggling on his chair. He itched to go and say goodbye to his friends.

"I want to ask you to keep an eye on Sirius," Dumbledore continued. "Lucius Malfoy recognised him last year. That mustn't happen again. Please ask Remus to put some temporary glamour charms on him whenever you plan to go out. The same goes for you."

"Of course, Sir," replied Harry.

"Very well then, Harry," said Dumbledore and smiled. "Remus will pick you up at three o'clock and Portkey himself and you directly to Grimmauld Place. Be ready then."

Harry beamed. "Yes, Sir!"

Dumbledore chuckled. "Now, run along before you wear down my chair."

Quick as a lightening bolt Harry jumped up and raced out of the office. He flew down the stairs and just managed to catch one of the last carriages that drove to Hogsmeade station. In the carriage sat some Ravenclaw third years and a few Hufflepuffs from first to fourth year. They all stared adoringly at his scar, but Harry ignored it and just smiled pleasantly in greeting.

The ride was awfully quiet since not one of the younger ones dared to talk to him. On the other hand this gave Harry time to build on his defence mechanism against intrusions. His concentration had vastly improved in the last few weeks. His imaginary mirror wall now wasn't as smooth as it used to be. It currently looked like crumbled silver foil. It didn't throw the energies back immediately but broke them and strew them in all directions. His glassy stare must have freaked one tiny Hufflepuff boy out because the whole bunch fled as soon as the carriages stopped. Harry just shrugged and climbed out.

The train was already huffing and puffing and students were running around and heaving their luggage onto the train. A lone conductor helped here and there. Harry found his friends rather quickly because Hermione was doing her duty as Prefect and coordinated the scrambling students.

"Amelia, go after Sandy! You'll just block the passageway …," called Hermione after a small, brown-haired girl. "And Oliver, stop tripping Martin!"

Ron grunted as he heaved Neville's trunk on a shelf. Dean and Ginny kissed lovingly while other students ran around them. Harry was astounded that Ron had become so lenient. But on the other hand even he had to tire eventually. He found Seamus and Blaise hidden in a compartment next to that of Neville, Ginny, Dean and Ron. They kissed as if there was no tomorrow. Harry smiled softly and left them to it. Outside of the train again he hugged Luna shortly, said goodbye to Parvati and Lavender and clapped Terry on his back. Two minutes to eleven he crushed Ron and Hermione in a tight embrace and promised to write them somehow, or call. Hermione had given him her phone number and he was sure he could call while he was in Muggle London.

Then they boarded the train. All his friends poked their heads out of the windows and waved at him; the engine of the train hooted and huffed and smoke flew up in the air. The conductor whistled sharply, and the last doors closed. Colin and Dennis both made a last photo of Harry, and then the train sped up and left Hogsmeade. Harry waved until it was too far away to see his friends.

Only then he realised that Malfoy was standing on the platform, as well. He was several metres away, and Harry didn't really feel like bickering right now. But he still wondered. Didn't the ferret tell him that he would go home this year?

He shrugged slightly and trudged back to the waiting carriages. Unfortunately Malfoy seemed to seek company because he jumped in Harry's carriage and sat across from him.

"Well, well," he sneered. "The great Harry Potter is the only one left this Christmas."

Harry wanted to tell him everything about his godfathers and that he would have a wonderful Christmas, but of course he didn't. He just glared at the blonde and kept his mouth tightly shut.

"I bet the Weasel family offered to take you," Malfoy continued, "but they were too poor to actually do it."

"Why aren't _you_ on the train, Malfoy?" Harry interrupted his taunting. "Did your excuses for parents want to go skiing without their precious heir?"

"Of course not," said Malfoy smugly. "Father didn't want me to take the filthy train. He's coming to get me later." His grey eyes gleamed in the dim light of the carriage.

Harry actually snorted in laughter. "How thoughtful of him. I bet a seven hours long ride with Parkinson would have been too much for your virgin mouth."

Malfoy sneered. "That's none of your business, Potty."

"So? Why are you sitting here with me, then? I certainly didn't ask you to join me." Harry leaned back and regarded Malfoy coolly.

"Oh, I just wanted to trample on your precious feelings a bit before I leave," said Malfoy maliciously. "After all, you will be all alone on Christmas."

Harry looked at him in contempt and seriously considered hexing him.

"Oh, before I forget it," said Malfoy suddenly, smirking darkly. "I wanted to give you an early present." He rummaged in his robe pocket and pulled out a very familiar looking Gryffindor scarf. "Here." He tossed it at Harry.

"Whatever did you take it for?" Harry asked in shocked bewilderment. He had searched that stupid thing forever.

Malfoy shrugged. "Seemed like fun."

"You're really twisted, ferret-boy."

Malfoy smirked again and treaded his fingers through his blond hair.

"I didn't know it was that important to you, Potty. Then I would have kept it for longer, of course."

"How considerate of you," replied Harry dryly. He turned the scarf in his hands and sniffed cautiously on it. It smelled like nothing in particular. "What did you do with it?"

"I gave it to Crabbe and Goyle for their morning ablutions," said Malfoy and rolled his eyes.

Harry gagged subtly. The thought alone …

"And why are you giving it back?" Harry asked suspiciously. "This is certainly not like you, ferret."

Malfoy bristled. "Well, Potter, I can't have your things lying around forever, can I? Besides, the smell went away."

"What smell?" demanded Harry, suddenly feeling uneasy.

Malfoy's cheeks reddened and he visibly cursed himself quietly for talking too much.

"Do you still think I'm using a perfume? God, Malfoy, you've really lost your marbles!" Harry put the scarf around his neck, grateful to have it finally back.

They arrived in front of the castle, and both went different ways as soon as possible. Harry occupied an empty classroom for some last minute practice in charms and spells while Malfoy stormed off to the dungeons.

When lunchtime arrived Harry left his sanctuary and walked to the Great Hall. He felt hungry after casting so many curses, jinxes, spells and charms. The smells that came from the Great Hall indicated another wonderful meal and he practically skipped down the last hallway and towards the main portal.

Dumbledore had seated the staff and the last two students at one single table as he had done in the previous years. Harry chose a seat next to Hagrid and Professor Flitwick. Malfoy, who entered the Great Hall a few minutes later, took the remaining seat between Snape and Sinistra. Then the food appeared and everybody dug in.

During the meal Harry observed Professor Blackadder. She wore a deep red wool cape and had plaited some sprigs of mistletoe in her long, dark hair. She looked rather ridiculous, but Harry consoled himself that no one looked more ridiculous than Trelawney. So, even if Blackadder should be fired before his seventh year started (which he hoped fervently), his dose of ridiculous teacher wouldn't simply disappear.

Dumbledore urged everybody to eat at least twice as much as usual. Only Snape managed to refuse, how Harry wasn't entirely sure. Malfoy scowled at him over the table while Flitwick talked on and on about his vacation in Honduras where he would meet some relatives he hadn't seen in ages. Hagrid planned to visit Beauxbatons and dreamed about Madame Maxime. Hooch und Sprout were discussing the advantages of flying or Apparating in winter. Harry listened briefly but decided that the discussion was quite senseless. Who in their right mind would fly in that cold? Not to mention the snow that beat down more heavily on someone the higher they flew.

When he was finally allowed to leave the table it was well past half past one. He quickly marched off to Gryffindor Tower and washed his hands. He was too nervous to take a nap, so he twiddled with his wand and started roaming the castle. He avoided the seventh floor but visited the House Elves in the kitchen to say goodbye for the break.

"Only one more hour," whispered Harry. He was walking around without goal or purpose and was bored terribly.

He watched out for the sprigs of mistletoe, more out of reflex than actual interest, and drove himself mad with anticipation. He didn't feel up to training some more but he also couldn't stand still for even a second. His legs already started to ache from all the fast pacing. Portraits asked him what he was up to, and he really tried to converse with them. But his nervousness didn't allow him to stay patient for long, and soon he was pacing the castle again.

Half past two he started fiddling with his wand again. He almost wished Malfoy would show up and challenge him to a little duel. But no, the little git remained hidden in the dungeons, unlike all the other times. Maybe he was already gone and Harry hadn't noticed.

Smirking, he pulled out the Marauders' Map and activated it. Looking for Malfoy didn't take him very long. Draco was walking to the entrance portal and Malfoy senior was coming up a hallway to meet his son.

Harry would be damned if he released them so easily into the holidays. He happily changed directions and wandered down to the Great Hall once more.

What he hadn't foreseen, however, was the castle's own mind. The stairs had changed directions abruptly and Harry was forced to walk through an older, less used corridor to stay on his way. He figured he would run into the Malfoys at the front entrance and exchange some not-so-nice words with them.

Stumbling out of the dark and narrow corridor, he blinked owlishly at the bright light in the main corridor. His passage ended just behind the sculpture of Sigund the Sorrowful. He turned right and strode down the hallway, which, he knew, would eventually lead to the main hallway.

From far away he could already hear Malfoy's footsteps and hurried to keep up with him. It really would be a pity to let them go without exchanging a few, good insults first.

His cloak billowed behind him as he strode further down the hallway, always keeping an ear on Malfoy's footsteps. He finally reached the end of it and stepped through the arc. He looked to his right where he could see the main portal at some distance, then to his left. Malfoy was just metres away from him, startled to see him appear so suddenly. But his surprise was quickly covered with his usual scowl.

Harry stepped out of the corridor completely and regarded Malfoy curiously. The other scowled back.

"What do you want, Potter?" he asked impatiently. "And why are you here?"

Harry shrugged and smiled graciously. "I was just taking a walk. Jeez, are you always so uptight?"

Malfoy snorted and started walking again. "I wasn't keen on seeing your scar-face, if you must know."

Harry fell into step next to him. He already knew how he could rile up Malfoy even more. "But you took my scarf, Malfoy," he said. "I'm touched. Although I'm a bit curious why you put an anti-summoning charm on it."

Malfoy bit his lip and went faster.

"Well? I'm tempted to believe you wanted to keep it all for yourself." Harry smirked. "And why would that be? Because of my mystic perfume?"

Malfoy was going to reply something, but Lucius Malfoy spotted them then from a distance, and Malfoy let it drop. Instead, he tried to get to his father as quickly as possible. He was visibly flustered about Harry's taunting.

Only he didn't get very far.

Harry cursed aloud as he noticed the sprig of mistletoe above their heads.

"I can't believe it!" cried Malfoy. "Of all things now _that_! Why can't you leave me alone for _once_, Potter?"

Harry opened and closed his mouth in consternation. Malfoy senior approached them slowly, apparently wondering what was keeping his son now.

"Do you think I _planned_ this, Malfoy?" said Harry finally. "You self-centred, arrogant twit! I really have better things to do than to kiss _you_ of all people!"

"It certainly doesn't seem that way, Potty," sneered Malfoy. Red spots were dancing on his pale cheeks, and he looked nearly desperate.

"Oh, for the love of–," cursed Harry, reaching for his wand.

Malfoy stepped back from him but edged against an invisible barrier. "Oh, no," he moaned, "now I'm _trapped_ with you! The day can't get any worse!"

"If I remember correctly it was _you_ who advised Smith and Corner just to get it over with," Harry pointed out snidely. His eyes blazed angrily, and he felt the desire to just curse the arrogant boy flare up.

"Well, it was not _me_!" yelled Malfoy. "I'm _so_ not going to kiss you, Potter! Never!"

"Well, thank you!" yelled Harry back. "Because I don't want you to!"

"What's going on here?" Lucius Malfoy asked when he finally arrived at the arch. "Draco, why are you still here, talking to Potter of all people? You know your mother awaits you." He was still walking slowly towards them, glaring at Harry and his son.

"Mr Malfoy, stop, we're under a–," said Harry in alarm.

But it was too late. Lucius Malfoy already stood inside of the sprig's magical range. He smirked, and with his cold eyes he looked intently at Harry.

"Oops," he said softly, not sounding as if he was shocked at all.

"Father?" Draco asked.

"I think we have no time to waste," said Lucius Malfoy, his voice still too soft for Harry's liking. "Now look and learn, Draco. One cannot always argue about such little things. You must learn to pick your fights." His lips curled into a smile. "Besides, I would hardly call it a burden to do what is required to escape this particular trap."

Draco gaped at his father, and Harry's legs were quickly turning into jelly. Why, oh why did the older Malfoy have to look so good today? Why was his skin glowing so softly in the light of the sun? Why were his hands cradling the snake cane so elegantly? And why did he talk about kissing him in that smooth, wonderful voice?

Harry backed away until he thudded against the stone of the arch. Malfoy advanced on him slowly, his eyes gleaming predatorily.

"What a wonderful surprise for Christmas," he uttered softly. His long, white blond hair slid over his shoulders in soft waves.

Harry stared up into the grey eyes and tried to catch his breath. It was far too quick and shallow. If Malfoy wanted he could hex him now, even kill him …

"You smell so good, Mr Potter," whispered Malfoy when he was close enough to touch Harry's mouth with his own lips. His pupils dilated until they had almost absorbed all of the grey irises. "What is it, tell me …"

Harry swallowed. His head was spinning and his glasses were slowly sliding down his nose. Malfoy took his time, apparently enjoying whatever scent he believed he was smelling and then he kissed him for a long ten seconds on the lips, even licked over them.

Draco gasped in shock and outrage. "Father, what are you doing?" he demanded.

His consternation finally ripped Harry from his stupor. The older Malfoy let go of Harry, too reluctantly for Harry's tastes. He even pushed the glasses back up with a gloved hand. They stared at each other for a few more moments, and then Lucius turned around to his son.

"That which had to be done. Now go kiss Potter so we can get out of here."

Draco grumbled in indignation and approached cautiously. But he didn't have to worry. Harry was still too dazed from the unexpected kiss of a Death Eater to struggle against another kiss. The closer Malfoy came the more the blonde shifted nervously.

"I hate you, Potter," said Malfoy quietly. "This is my first kiss. You'll pay for that!"

Harry just glared up to him weakly. "Well, it's either me or Parkinson, isn't it?" he said angrily.

Malfoy ignored him and leaned closer, trying not to breathe but failing miserably. With a soft moan he sucked in the heated air above Harry's skin, then quickly pressed their lips together for a brief kiss. But instead of making it quick he lingered, undecided of how to proceed from there.

Lucius Malfoy's chuckle finally got him out of his stupor. Harry glared at them both and scrambled to get back onto his feet. Draco retreated until he stood next to his father.

"Come, son. Let's go. Merry Christmas, Mr Potter."

The smooth words were like a slap in the face for Harry. He figured that Lucius Malfoy certainly had enjoyed it to intimidate and fluster him. Bastard.

"Why did you _do_ that?" hissed Draco when he and his father were stalking away. "This is _Potter_, for Merlin's sake!"

Harry listened to their echoing footsteps. He only let go of the tension and relaxed when they were silent altogether. How was he going to explain that to any of his friends? Should he even tell them? Being kissed by both Malfoys was simply gross, to say the least.

"I'm so doomed," he muttered bitterly and wiped his lips with the sleeve of his pullover.

When Remus arrived to pick him up Harry had pulled himself together a bit. He was very glad to see his second godfather in person and hugged him hard. Together they went up to Gryffindor Tower to retrieve Harry's bag. Harry's legs were still a bit shaky, and his hands were sweating slightly. But if Remus noticed this, he didn't comment.

At three o'clock sharp they touched the Portkey, an old brass key, and were pulled away from Hogwarts, travellingdirectly into the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place 12.

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**End of chapter 5b**


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** _Nothing but most parts of the plot (save some references) are mine. The glorious rest belongs to JKR and her evil henchmen *hrhrhr*_

**Thanks:**_ As usual my thanks go to my wonderful beta Licelli who struggled through the chapter and did wonders to make it better. Also, thank you at all the readers who left a comment, asked questions, put me on their favourite and story alert lists and generally made me feel good. Thanks a bunch, you're real gems! :-) Please let me know what you think.  
_

And now ... Enjoy!

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**Chapter 6**

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Travelling by Portkey had advantages sometimes, Harry found out: if you were in a shaky state, no one would know if it was because of the Portkey or because of other problems. Which was a good thing right now because he stumbled out of Sirius' fireplace and Sirius swept him up in his infamous bear hug and squeezed the life out of him. He couldn't even drop his bag to the ground. It pressed uncomfortably against his rib cage.

"Harry!" said Sirius excitedly. "I'm so glad that you're finally here!"

"A-air," gasped Harry, struggling weakly against the strong arms. Quills and parchment in his bag crumpled noisily.

Remus pried him out of Sirius' grasp and clucked his tongue in mild reprimand. "Siri, let him breathe! The poor boy just arrived and probably feels like throwing up right now! You are so insensitive sometimes! Come, let's show him his room first so he can settle in."

"Oh, yes!" said Sirius, as chipper as a bouncing dog. "We have a nice room for you! You'll love it, believe me! Once we had banished all the vermin and the pixies it was very easy to reconstruct it …"

He pulled the still nauseous Harry, who really couldn't care less about the history of the house at the moment, up the stairs, carrying his bag like a toy and all the while talking about the changes he and Remus had made during the last six months. Remus just trailed after them, laughing softly at Sirius' antics and throwing in little remarks every now and then. Harry hadn't even had time to survey the entrance hall properly, let alone peek through the big door that seemingly led into a living room.

Sirius led them into the second storey of the house and turned to the left.

"This is the southern side of the house. Your room will have light the whole day long." He pushed a door open and dragged Harry through. "We hope you'll like the design, if not there's nothing we can't change."

Harry caught his breath and finally had time to look closely for the first time since he'd arrived.

"Wow!" breathed Harry. "This is wonderful!" He even forgot his nervous stomach for a moment.

He wandered into his new, gigantic room, running his fingers lightly over the dark leather of his couch (Chesterfield, he recognised – Aunt Petunia had always dreamed of having one of these) which stood in front of a huge fireplace. He saw equally dark brown furniture, a wonderful, old-fashioned desk in front of the window and shelves filled with books_;_ the books he had wished for but also old storybooks for children, novels, detective novels_, _and books about Muggle inventions.

The bed was just as big as his bed at Hogwarts, only with bed hangings in dark shades of green. On the left nightstand stood, small and innocent seeming, a Pensieve. Harry refused to look for too long at the thing, instead he turned away and spotted a door that led to a closet, and surmised that he even had his own bathroom, if the second door was any indication.

His feet sank into a very soft carpet. He was immediately grateful to be a wizard because it was cream coloured and already had foot prints in the deep pile. He had to remember to remove his shoes the next time before he stepped into his room – or let Sirius or Remus spell it so they wouldn't leave prints.

"I … Thank you so much, Siri, I love it," he pressed out past the sudden lump in his throat before flinging himself into Sirius' arms.

Remus let the fire in the fireplace flare up a bit, and then he spelled the carpet clean and pushed some slippers in Harry's direction.

"You're welcome, Harry," murmured Sirius lovingly. He stroked his godson's back and untidy hair before he finally released him. "Now, as to the rules in this house–"

Both Harry and Remus snorted disrespectfully.

"-I want to ask you to keep it in one piece. It was annoying enough to restore it to what it is now," said Sirius, ignoring them.

"Fair enough," Harry grinned.

"And then I don't want you to throw things at unwelcome guests, such as Snape."

"Awww, you're no fun," whined Remus playfully.

"The last rule is that we eat together as often as possible. I don't want to miss any moments with the two of you. Okay?"

"Okay," replied Harry, feeling giddy and stupid for it. He was already feeling better, much better. Coming home to somewhere where he was loved felt simply wonderful.

Sirius drew him into yet another embrace and kissed the top of his head.

"Now, unpack your things and then make a list of what you'll need, alright? I remember the promise I gave you on your birthday and I plan to keep it."

"I'll help you if you want," offered Remus kindly. "Siri has to feed Buckbeak. We set him on a diet."

"He is becoming fat?" Harry asked incredulously. "Poor thing."

"Well, we can't let him fly as often as we want to," explained Sirius. "The Muggles would get the shock of their lives if they saw him flying above their houses."

"And if you freed him?" suggested Harry cautiously. "I mean, maybe he's unhappy, being cooped up in a house all day."

"In the attic, to be precise," said Remus gently. "Mind you, it's a large attic and all, but still not the perfect solution for a beast like him."

Sirius sighed and ran his left hand through his shoulder length black hair. "I know. I should let him go but he can't go back to Hagrid's herd because he's officially a dangerous beast. McNair would kill him on sight. And I'm not sure if he could live with his wild relatives anymore. Maybe he's too tame now."

"It's worth a shot, isn't it?" Harry insisted. "Besides, I didn't tell you everything about the DA and our plans."

Both men were instantly curious. But Remus remembered that they had a guest to tend to, a house to show and a House Elf to introduce. Therefore he smiled and said that Harry's news about the DA could wait until the evening. Sirius wanted to protest, but a well-aimed glare shut him up.

Sirius surrendered to Remus' mother-hen behaviour and once again took the lead and dragged Harry through the whole house. They started in the entrance hall, seeing that it was the arrival and destination point of all visitors.

Harry noticed now that the walls were free from dirt and mould and that they had put up new wallpaper. It now looked friendly and inviting, and several lamps lightened the windowless corridor. He also had no doubt that the exterior of the house looked as shabby as ever to remain inconspicuous. But on the inside the heavy door was painted in a handsome brown colour, the knob was gleaming dark golden in the light and some nice portraits and pictures adorned the peach-coloured walls. Only one portrait was hidden beneath a black veil. The broken frame was still visible under the cloth.

Harry knew that the late Mrs Black had to be hidden behind that veil, and he thought, completely mercilessly, that she deserved it. The old hag would bitch and yell the whole day if no one shut her up, anyway.

Sirius noticed Harry's questioningly raised eyebrow. He swaggered to the portrait and took the veil in his hands, but was not pulling yet.

"I told you that Moony had a nice chat with her at the last full moon," said Sirius smugly. "Well, now you can have a look for yourself." And he ripped the veil off of Mrs Black's frame.

The woman had barely looked at them for a second when she immediately started to screech and curse at them, called her own son ugly names and threatened to betray him the instant a stranger stepped into the house. Remus just growled softly and looked at her with his glowing wolf eyes.

"Beast! Monster!" cried Mrs Black and pointed at Remus with a withered finger. "Just ripped me in two! Die, you filthy beast! Die! Mutants! _Kreacher_! Throw that dirty beast out of my house! He's sullying the name of Black!"

"Just wait until the next full moon," chuckled Remus lightly. "I think Moony will want to say something to your colourful insults."

"Beast! Murderer!" Mrs Black's voice was climbing up the scale and Harry was getting a headache. Her screaming obviously didn't mix well with travelling by Portkey.

"Shut the fuck up, you old hag!" thundered Sirius. "You'll go down the next time and nothing can save you!"

"My own son is ambushing me! Trying to kill me! In my own house no less! Oh, if you just had died! If only Regulus were still alive! Why couldn't it have been you! Why! _Why_!"

"SHUT IT!" yelled Harry in pure rage. "Shut up before I make you!" The thought that anyone wanted Sirius dead in favour of somebody else made him mad.

"You're not better than my failed son! I hate you! I _hate_ you!" Mrs Black's ugly, pale face reddened in rage and she started to pull at her hair. "_Kreacher_! Where are you, you lazy, sodding _muck_ of a House Elf!"

Her screeching started to get on their nerves so Sirius grabbed the veil and threw it over her torn and broken frame. The shrieks immediately faded out. Harry was feeling so angry, he could have blown up the whole entrance hall of Grimmauld Place if Sirius hadn't shut her up in time. Remus casually placed an Immobilus Spell onto the fabric so it wouldn't slide off accidentally.

"She's amusing sometimes," explained Sirius nonchalantly, "But if she's going on your nerves just put this lovely sound-dampening cloth over her."

"Okay," said Harry darkly. He didn't plan to free Mrs Black from the veil, ever. Instead he wished he could just take a knife and carve some nice patterns into her paint.

"Well, now into the great Living Room," said Sirius. "There is one on every floor but this one is the best room in the whole house, you'll see." He walked past a portrait of a young, golden haired maiden. She cooed when he smiled at her and fanned herself coquettishly.

Remus and Harry strolled after him through the corridor and entered a large, airy room which was furnished in a classic style. Gone were the dusty, old and torn things. Now parquet and carpets covered the floor, and wonderful antique tables, bookshelves, sofas and armchairs filled it nicely. On each wall there was a fireplace, and in each fireplace crackled a merry fire. Harry loved it the second he laid eyes on it.

"This is the centre of the house," said Remus quietly. "The magic is collecting and pooling in here for some reason. Most people feel very comfortable in this room."

"Some witches and wizards tried to explain this phenomenon with the eastern Feng Shui theory. Maybe that's why," said Sirius, stalking through his living room with deserved pride.

Harry's eyes discovered a framed parchment which hung on the wall next to a portrait of a person he thought he knew. It looked a lot like an old map, or a part of one, with brown, faded ink and cryptic symbols on it.

"What is this?" he asked curiously.

"Grimmauld Place hasn't got as many secret corridors and rooms as Hogwarts, but it still justifies its own map," said Remus and smiled softly. "This is, of course, only a small part of it."

"You made a map of this house?" Harry stepped into the Living Room and looked closely at everything, foregoing the framed piece of the map for the moment. He discovered portraits of the old headmaster Dippet, one of Dumbledore's brother Aberforth (that was at least standing on the golden badge) and several other people Harry knew from Dumbledore's office. "How did you do that?"

"We searched the east, north, south and west point of the house, took from these corners and the centre a bit earth and made the ink for the map." Sirius leaned against the backside of the sofa and crossed his arms. "A drop of my blood – I am the heir of the Blacks after all – didn't hurt either. The mansion had to reveal its secrets to me because I'm the Lord now."

"Can I see it?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Only when you're finished exploring the house," said Sirius mischievously. "Remy and I want to see how far you come."

"I've never had the marauder gene like you or Remus, and you know it. Heck, the twins would be your legal heirs, not me." Harry pouted a bit. "If you leave me on my own I'll most likely get lost."

"Don't worry, we're here to get you," said Sirius, winking cheekily. "We, after all, have the real map." He pointed to the picture. "This is just a part, and it has no functional parts whatsoever. Remy and I just thought it would look cool."

Harry pulled a face and pouted even more. Sirius and Remus gave him the time to explore the room thoroughly, and then they moved on into the other rooms. Every floor had one living room, as Sirius had said, and every floor also had a study, a drawing room, several bedrooms, a master bathroom, and a small sun room. Each of the four storeys basically held the same set of rooms, although the second floor was apparently 'Harry's floor' because Sirius had redone the other bedrooms for eventual guests and filled the bookshelves with student-friendly books. This was, however, just a quick tour to give Harry an idea of the new and improved House of Black.

Harry noticed that all the windows were clean and had new framework. Gone were the old, splintering wood frames_._Someone, maybe the new House Elf or some members of the Order, had replaced them with new ones, and Harry knew that on each window several spells and charms were ensuring their safety.

Only the first floor had a kitchen, however. It was as Harry remembered it: large and roomy, with big windows to let the sunlight in. But the walls were newly painted in a pale, cosy shade of peachy cream. Dark wood panels covered the walls from ground to the middle. Over the hearth hung countless cooking utensils, and in a cupboard Harry found pans and pots and forms for soufflé.

It was without a doubt the main domain of the resident House Elf. Her name was Twinky and she wore a cute, pink towel as a toga. Harry was immediately smitten with her when Sirius introduced the newest member of his household.

"Master Harry!" she squealed in delight. "Is Master hungry? Would Master Harry like tea and cookies?"

"Later, Twinky," said Sirius. "We still have to show him the rest of the house. But you can set up the coffee table in the Living Room."

"Yes, Master!" Twinky bowed and vanished with a hearty POP.

"She's cute," said Harry once the elf had left.

"I told you so," remarked Sirius smugly. "She's quite young, the second daughter of the Mallory's House Elf, what was her name? Ginky?"

"Ginky," confirmed Remus. "You have to know, Harry, that House Elves are sold once they're old enough to work alone in a new household. The Mallorys have so many elves that they practically presented it to Siri."

"Are they … in the Order?" Harry asked.

"Yes." Sirius grinned. "Merlin, it is wonderful to have her around. I couldn't have wished for a better one, actually."

Harry, who remembered how cruelly Sirius had treated Kreacher, let the topic drop and just looked some more around the kitchen, spying for cracks in the wall that would give away a secret passageway. Remus watched him in amusement. Although he was very thorough it was painfully clear that Harry had no real idea how to snoop for secrets properly. Maybe some lessons were in order. With his history and tendency to attract already impending danger even more, it could prove helpful if Harry knew what to look for and how to find these things.

After the four storeys of the house Harry also got to see the attic and Buckbeak. The poor thing resided currently in the large attic and obviously was bored to death. He picked morosely on some weasels and rats.

Harry felt new determination well up inside and he decided to really talk Sirius into setting Buckbeak free. A wild beast like this could only take so much.

It was well after seven in the evening when their tour of the house was finally done. The short tour hadn't been so short after all, because Harry had asked so many questions that they had just lost track of time. Remus dragged Harry and Sirius down into the Living Room and asked Twinky to bring them some sandwiches and drinks.

"We still have to do the last few rooms on the fourth floor," said Sirius between two bites. "Do you want to help, Harry?"

"I can't do magic," replied Harry. "How am I supposed to help you, then?"

"Don't worry," said Remus, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Half of our unwanted guests were thrown out with our bare hands. It made the quest more interesting."

"Oh. Well, it's fine then," said Harry, feeling surprised and a bit stupid for underestimating his godfathers. He felt as if he should have known. Dumbledore still didn't allow Sirius out of the house very often, so he had to spend his pent up energy otherwise, be it with cleaning and restoring the house or with Remus.

"And on Monday we will go shopping," said Sirius, drawing Harry out of his contemplations. "Be up at eight, and then we have got the whole day to find you some decent clothes."

Remus and Harry groaned quietly.

"Trust Sirius to drag us through London all day," said Remus, rolling his eyes. "And really, eight o'clock?"

"Well, I planned to take you both to Harrods, and then to …" He listed a lot of shops, all of them were vaguely known to Harry as beingexpensive.

Harry felt a bit uncomfortable that Sirius wanted to spend his money on him. But he also knew that he wouldn't take 'no' for an answer. Remus sighed in defeat.

"Oh well, at least we can make a list," he said and conjured a sheet of parchment and a quill. "What do you need, Harry? You brought very few. Where's the rest?"

"Dumbledore said I should leave the majority of my things at Hogwarts." He shrugged. "In case somebody succeedsingetting into Gryffindor tower and snoopingaround. Besides, I only left Dudley's old things."

"You need t-shirts, pullovers, trousers, shoes and underwear, then," said Sirius. "And with your abominable fashion sense you'll really need our help, Harry."

"Abominable?" asked Harry in a low, threatening voice. "I'll give you abominable!"

With a growl he lunged for Sirius and knocked him off the sofa. Laughing and cursing they wrestled with each other and tried to tickle the opponent into oblivion. Remus watched them in amusement and added a few more things to the list. There were some Muggle groceries they would have to buy, and both Sirius and Remus wanted to buy some casual clothes, too. They were a lot more practical than robes in the house, and they allowed a greater agility in general.

Harry felt incredibly happy. Just being here in Grimmauld Place and making plans made him feel loved and wanted, but wrestling with his godfather, touching and having him near was like the icing on a cake. They had been apart for the better part of two years, and they had a lot to catch up on.

Tickling each other maybe wasn't the best way to fight and Sirius was a lot stronger than Harry. But Harry had, despite his still gangly arms and legs, an uncanny agility that allowed him to extricate himself from the direst of situations and start a counter attack on his godfather. Blissfully, Harry noticed that Sirius smelled of a Muggle aftershave and something else, something heavier, muskier.

This is like home, he thought, burying his face in Sirius' shoulder. And I know why Remus loves him so much.

In that moment said werewolf decided to break up their play. With a flick of Remus' wand, Harry and Sirius sat on the sofa and to either side of him. With ruffled hair and flushed cheeks, Harry had not felt betterin ages. At Hogwarts he never wrestled with his friends like that. Most of their friendly fights were done in the air. But playing Quidditch couldn't compare to that. Inhibited wrestling like that was just not their cup of tea. And Harry had had no idea that it could be like that and feel so good. Not even in the Burrow he had had so much fun.

"Here's the list," said Remus. "Monday will be a long day. Knowing Padfoot he'll run into every store he sees."

Sirius smiled warmly at them both and ran a hand through his black hair. "And how well you know me, Moony," he teased.

Remus flushed slightly. "Well, anyway, it will be a long day, Harry."

Harry just grinned and didn't bother to hide it. It was time for his godfathers to know that he knew. And that he wasn't going to condemn them.

Remus suddenly disturbed the contemplative moment. "Tell me, Harry, why were you so upset when I came to get you?"

Oh, shit, thought Harry.

"Oh, nothing, really. Just the Malfoys," he said and tried to sound as unconcerned as he could.

"Malfoys?" echoed Sirius. His voice sounded decidedly cooler now.

"Yeah, father and son," replied Harry. "Malfoy senior came to Hogwarts to get his spawn. We had a little … talk." He knew it was lame, but it was still better than to tell them that Lucius Malfoy had kissed him deliberately. "But they didn't do anything. How could they, anyway?"

"I'll get them," growled Sirius. "Some day I'll get them both and kick their sorry asses right over the sea into Azkaban."

Remus looked a bit worried. But seeing that Harry and Malfoy had been enemies since their first year at Hogwarts he decided to let it slide. Insults weren't that important, were they? And Harry was right. It would have been very stupid of Malfoy to try one of his tricks right under Dumbledore's nose.

"You wanted to know what 'Mione, Ron and I have done in the last months," said Harry suddenly.

Remus and Sirius literally jumped at the topic. Harry allowed Remus to summon his notes and the curriculum for the next term. Now, this direction of their conversation would work very well in his favour. He knew it and, besides, Remus and Sirius would never let him down.

"Wow, Harry! You did an amazing job with teaching the DA all those jinxes," said Remus with open admiration. "And every student of yours can perform the Patronus Charm?"

"Yes," said Harry with a hint of pride. "I daresay that with the right motivation and a halfway decent teacher everybody can learn. Look at Neville's record; he's almost as good as Ron."

"I know, he had quite a talent for DADA once he had enough self-esteem," said Remus smugly. "I'm so glad you're preparing them for the fight. They will need it."

"The problem is now," said Harry with a hint of concern in his voice, "that we need new spells and hexes. The curriculum for shielding charms is almost finished. Do you have some good suggestions?"

"Of course–," said Remus.

"-we're the greatest mischief-makers Hogwarts ever had-," said Sirius.

"-and of course we have some really nasty spells for you, young Harry," finished Remus.

"Don't do that," said Harry, chuckling lightly. "You're reminding me too much of Fred and George."

"Good lads, those," said Sirius proudly. "Your tale about their jokes in your fights was wonderful."

"The DA and I will see what we can really do with them," said Harry. "It was a good idea, anyway. They managed to let them increase their power when someone tries to hex them. Umbridge had to learn that the hard way." All three chuckled evilly at Umbridge's expense.

Remus leafed through Harry's notes and commented every now and then on a particular spell or charm. Both Sirius and Remus were dumbstruck that Harry had taught the DA the body shielding charm '_Protecto Corpus_'. But then they remembered that the DA members were already able to produce a Patronus beast each and refrained from saying more.

"Smith and Corner complained about the lack of real training," said Harry a while later when the notes lay on the table and they were all exhausted. "But I have a really good idea. I just need a good room for that. Or do you think the Room of Requirement can imitate dungeons, open fields and so on?"

"You can always try," replied Sirius. "Remy and I sometimes visited the room and let it look like a clearing. It was at a time when we weren't allowed outside very often, it was too dangerous."

"Well, a clearing won't be enough for thirty students," said Harry thoughtfully. "I know that there's a room where Firenze lives. He could go back in the Forbidden Forest now because the other centaurs are gone, but he prefers to stay in the castle. But I don't know if he would like it if we used his room for training."

"Can't Dumbledore help you?" Remus asked. "I'm sure he could give you an adequate room."

"I don't want to ask him," said Harry firmly. "The DA and I decided to keep our secrets for ourselves until the time is right."

"Oh I know, Dumbledore can be a meddling old coot," said Sirius, "but do you really think it is wise to keep it all to yourself?"

"Dumbledore knows when Voldemort wants to attack Hogwarts, and how. The DA and I have some suspicions, but it's nothing concrete now. We need more time to find out what we need to know."

"_What_? Voldemort is planning an attack?" Sirius asked sharply.

"What is he planning?" Remus asked bitingly.

So Harry told them everything about his dream on Halloween's Eve and what he had heard. He left out that he was pulled into Voldemort's mind, however, and that he and the DA suspected that Voldemort might have a second plan. Both Sirius and Remus were practically livid by the time Harry finished. Remus growled under his breath and Sirius raked both hands through his shiny hair.

Harry was astounded that his two godfathers didn't know anything about it – it was a huge thing and the whole rest of the Order of the Phoenix had to know! Why did Dumbledore leave them out of it? Oh, he had his suspicions, but the Slytherin part of his mind already formed plans how to use that bit of information.

"I can't believe it!" ranted Sirius. "He didn't tell us! What are we, children?" He stood up and started pacing. "There I thought that he finally would take us seriously and would stop coddling us, but no! I have to hear it from my godson!"

"I thought Dumbledore would have told you the instant he had learned about it," said Harry meekly. "I'm sorry. I would have told you earlier."

"We know that, Harry," said Remus. "The problem with Dumbledore is just that he thinks he has to keep certain things from us, as you well know. After last June I can almost understand him, but that's just too much. He knows we hate it and he doesn't care!"

"That meddling, old fool!" cried Sirius. Raking his hands through his hair again, this time more viciously, he only increased his pacing. "We'll get him back for that, Remy!"

"That was unkind," agreed Remus. A frown marred his usually serene face. "One would almost think he wanted to keep us out of trouble …"

Harry found that that was the understatement of the year. "Well, he obviously wanted to protect you," he said carefully though not really putting feeling behind that statement.

"But he should know by now that we don't like to hang around!" said Sirius loudly. "That damned, old, fucking–"

"Siri!" admonished Remus sharply. "Now, I know how you feel, but revenge is a dish best served cold …"

"From behind through the chest and in the eye," agreed Harry. "Actually, I know exactly what you could do …"

Sirius and Remus immediately perked up and Harry explained to them exactly what he needed from them. Finding some competent Wiccans wasn't too hard, Sirius said. He had some friends who he could ask, and Remus promised to find more books for Harry. The required new spells, curses, jinxes, hexes and protection charms interested both, therefore they appointed the week between Christmas and New Year's Eve for studying and research. The library of Grimmauld Place 12 was, simply put, impressive, and Harry looked forward to perusing the books.

His two godfathers readily agreed to keep his requests from Dumbledore. It was, after all, nothing too suspicious. Wiccans were needed in Hogwarts in any case as they knew now, and Remus wondered aloud why Harry hadn't gotten his own Pensieve long ago. With that off of his back Harry was a lot more relaxed than before. Now he could really start to enjoy the holidays.

"Uhm, Siri?" Harry said when his godfather had calmed down a bit. "Did the Weasleys say something to you about Christmas Eve?"

"No, not really. Do you plan to invite the lot over?" Sirius asked.

"I thought about it," said Harry meekly. "But I wanted to ask you first, of course."

"I would like that," said Sirius. "The house was empty far too long. Don't you think, Moony?"

"Mmh," said Remus. "You could call Hermione on Monday and tell her about it. I think it's safer if she's the one to contact the Weasleys."

"Yay!" cried Harry. "Thank you both so much!"

Sirius just laughed and cuddled Harry tightly. "Anything for you, little one."

Harry went to bed very late that night. He was so happy that he thought he could call upon a whole herd of Patronus beasts. A herd of tall, silvery Prongses. Finally up in his room he selected the book about Legilimency which he had started in Hogwarts and continued to read the second chapter. He was more determined than ever to kick Voldemort's bony butt.

After reading the chapter, Harry extracted the memory of his whereabouts from his head and placed it carefully in the Pensieve. It wouldn't do to help Voldemort track him down. After that he tried to conjure the saddest possible occurrence to get rid of his happiness. In the dark of his room and under thick, warm blankets he regulated his breathing and visualised his mind. He erected his shields and fixed some traps. They were still far too obvious, but he would get better with time.

When Harry woke up the next morning he felt relaxed and well-rested. He decided against looking into his Dream Catcher in favour of a shower and a good teeth-brushing. Later Twinky popped into his room and told him that Sirius and Remus were waiting with breakfast in the Living Room.

"Wow, this certainly seems like Hogwarts," said Harry, looking over the mounds of waffles and pancakes. Twinky in the back of the room smiled proudly, and then vanished.

"Please tuck in," said Sirius. "I want to wrench some more inches out of you, and for that you need enough food."

"Siri!" said Remus and swatted him.

"Oh, it's okay. I'm famished, anyway," laughed Harry. He put several pancakes onto his plate and poured syrup over them.

Remus and Sirius helped themselves to waffles and chocolate syrup. They ate in silence, just enjoying the sunlight that poured through the windows and the calming atmosphere of the room.

"So, Harry … What is up with you and that girl?" Sirius asked after his second cup of coffee. "What was her name? Chong Cha?"

"Cho Chang," said Harry shortly. "And there's nothing up with me and her."

"What happened?" Remus asked. "I thought you liked her."

"Well," said Harry slowly, "she wanted someone whom she could annoy with stories about Cedric Diggory."

"Ouch," said Sirius. "Sorry. I didn't want to bring it up …"

"You didn't know that I dumped her," said Harry in a matter-of-fact voice. "Besides, that girl has annoyed me since school started, anyway."

"Is there somebody else, then?" Sirius asked hopefully.

Harry knew Sirius was sorry for reminding him unwittingly of the not-so-nice talk he and Cho had had, but _this_ question didn't help him out of his self-dug hole.

"No, there isn't." Harry bit into a buttered roll.

Sirius cringed. "I should just shut up."

Remus chuckled. "Indeed." He set his cup down and smiled softly at Harry. "So, do you think you'll find all the secrets of Grimmauld Place in one day?"

"I can try," Harry said slyly. "Are there any hints?"

"It is said that the kitchen is more than it seems. And the third floor is full of surprises." Remus grinned wolfishly. "And people have heard strange noises coming from the basement."

"Oh, nice," said Harry. "I just hope you haven't hidden a Ghoul there. They can be nasty if they want to."

After breakfast Harry decided to start searching in the basement. He had some ideas. It was just too unfair that he couldn't use his wand. The Ministry of Magic would expel himfor good this time, and with Umbridge in charge (he still wondered how that was possible after her sacking just months ago) he would be as good as as good as gone. But to be fair, Remus agreed to do the spells he wanted to do while Sirius would wait in the Living Room and follow their way via his map.

Harry was motivated enough to find everything hidden in the basement, but he had the feeling that the secret passageways were better secured the higher he climbed in the house. In the basement countless cartons and boxes had hindered his path, but in the upper parts of the house there would be other obstacles. He was glad that they had learned some good revealing charms in the DA. It came in handy, and he made a mental note to thank Hermione and Blaise later.

Next to the Living Room was the grand library of Black Manor, and Harry was again awestruck at the huge number of tomes that were neatly arranged into the countless shelves. The rows of books were at least two storeys high, and several ladders made sure that interested people could reach the desired books.

"Wow, this is amazing", said Harry in awe once he had stepped into the large room. Big windows let a flood of sunlight stream in, even in winter.

"The Blacks have a wonderful collection of books about curses, hexes and battle magic in general", said Remus. He smiled. "If you want to have a look, just say so and we'll help you find what you need."

"Great!" exclaimed Harry. He took a last look at the books but decided that there were too many of them to examine in an effort to find hidden doors.

They left the library in order to search the other rooms. Harry did a good job of discovering secret doors and passageways, but from the third floor on, his revealing spells were too weak. He prodded and looked, but without much success. Then he had a wonderful idea. And Sirius and Remus hadn't said anything against it …

"Twinky!" he called. "Twinky, I need your help."

The elf appeared with a pop and looked at him expectantly. "How can Twinky help Master Harry?" she asked eagerly.

"I wonder if you know every corner of this house?" he asked slyly.

"Of course, Master Harry," she said proudly. "Twinky must know everything to help Masters Sirius and Remus!"

"Then you could tell me where all the hidden hallways and rooms are," said Harry genially. "That would really be a tremendous help."

"Of course, Master Harry."

Twinky jumped into the second bedroom to the left of the stairs and pointed a painting out to Harry.

"This is Mistress Magdalena Black," said Twinkly solemnly. "And she's guarding a secret room. You must tap three times against her fan with your wand, Master Harry."

Remus tapped obediently against her richly decorated fan, and the wall promptly opened.

"Harry, this was a very Slytherin way to go," said Remus, chuckling proudly. "I'm astounded that you haven't asked her earlier."

"Where would have been the fun?" replied Harry. "Besides, you should know that I'm a fan of fair play."

"You have done very well thus far. It's a pity that you don't know more revealing spells. Siri and I should teach you stronger ones."

Harry peered into the hidden room. "Have you taken down the traps?" he asked.

"No. We don't want to make it too easy for eventual burglars."

Harry just grinned. Remus agreed to lead him around and show him everything. Because Twinky had helped him (and would do it again) he officially admitted defeat and explained every hidden nook and crannyto Harry and told him each password and every trick. Soon Harry's head swam with all the information he received, and he was sure he had forgotten half of it when they finally calmed down a bit.

"You know of course that no other House Elf than your own would show you the hidden family secrets," said Remus when they were done wandering the dark secret passages that led to numerous other rooms in the whole house.

"Yeah, but until then you will have taught me all the useful revealing spells I need to know," replied Harry cheekily.

"Presumptuous brat," said Remus lovingly. "I'm so proud of you." He looked at the grandfather clock in the room and decided that it was enough for today. "Let's go back to Siri."

Harry grunted in agreement. Remus closed all the secret doors with a single swish of his wand and led Harry back into the Living Room. The sweet smell of tea wafted through the house and lured them both back.

Back in the Living Room and finally sitting contentedly on the sofa, they listened as Sirius explained to Harry the use of the map.

"This map will only allow three people to reveal it," he explained. "Remus, myself, and now you. Even the other members of the Order don't know all the secrets of my house, and I plan to keep it that way." He tapped the map with his wand and then shoved it over the table to Harry. "Touch it with your wand now."

Harry tipped his wand against the map and watched as the parchment accepted his magical signature.

"There can of course be a situation when somebody has stolen your wand and tries to activate the map," said Sirius. "To prevent that Remy and I installed four passwords, and each has to be accompanied with a tap of your wand. Only the last requires two taps. Now watch."

Harry scooted closer and paid rapt attention.

"The first password is '_Meaculpa_' then follows '_Black Lightning_' and '_Madam Shaney_'. And at last, '_Carpe Diem_'." He demonstrated it once. "After saying the passwords you may say "I solemnly swear that I'm up to no good". It reveals some extra functions. And in cases of dire emergencies you may use the short version: three taps with your wand and '_Fucking old hag_'."

"Why can't I use the emergency password all the time?" Harry asked curiously.

"Because the map records it. I want it to have its own history, you know? In a few years' time we can see when we have been in danger or things like that. It's kind of sentimental."

"Wicked," said Harry. He smiled and tried the activation mechanism out. "_Meaculpa. Black Lightning. Madam Shaney. Carpe Diem_." The map hissed shortly and a net of black, spidery thin lines of ink spread out. Rooms blossomed on the once pristine parchment, passageways and corridors revealed themselves.

Remus looked over Harry's shoulder. "Impressive, isn't it? What the noble and most ancient house of Black is hiding? About half of it Sirius didn't know until we made this map."

"It is," said Harry immediately. He traced a corridor that led to the basement. From there a tunnel went to somewhere outside. It was obviously an escape route. "And I hope you haven't gotten rid of all the dark artefacts. I would love to look them over."

"Siri can give you a tour. Right now they're stowed in the basement," said Remus. "You've seen them already. We haven't many uses for them. Most of them are too dangerous for even being a saucer."

"Why don't you give the stuff to Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"We may be on the side of light, but believe it or not, Sirius has still a little bit of family pride in himself. Especially after the death of Regulus and his mother. He's the heir."

"I wonder who will bear _his_ heir," joked Harry.

Remus flushed a bright pink and looked away. Sirius chuckled quietly. He seemed to enjoy himself immensely.

"I wouldn't say no to some cute whelps, Remy," he purred and waggled his eyebrows.

"Sirius!" cried Remus and blushed even more.

Harry decided to spare Remus further embarrassment and asked him how to get the map to vanish from the parchment.

"Just like the Hogwarts map," said Remus, wiping some sweat from his brow. "Say: 'Mischief managed' and it will be blank again."

"Cool. I already love it." Harry grinned at his godfathers. "But now I'm hungry." He looked at his watch. "And it's way past lunchtime. Feed me, please, I'm still growing."

After a huge meal they spent the evening laughing and playing silly wizarding games. Sirius tried to catch up with everything Harry had missed as a child, and the result was more than once simply hilarious. Remus slowly warmed up to Harry; Harry knew that Remus was more shy and less outgoing than Sirius, and he had really tried to be cordial, but Harry knew that such things just happened or they didn't. But now they were well on their way to becoming real friends. Harry thought that they had simply spent far too little time with each other over the last two years.

Since Twinky had stuffed them to the brink Harry, Remus and Sirius went to bed early. He took the threat of going early into Muggle London literally and wanted to be well rested for that experience. He had never been shopping for a whole day before, after all.

Occlumency was easy tonight. Harry was inspired by the many corridors in Black Mansion and decided to rebuild his imaginary defence walls like a maze of corridors and passageways. Like a labyrinth, really. He constructed the first few twists and turns, mindful of drawing them first to learn where to place what. Empty corridors were annoying enough for invaders, but in later sessions he would add doors and traps in his maze. Voldemort should be careful if and when he decided to invade Harry's mind again.

Just before going to sleep Harry took the memory of his whereabouts from his mind and placed it into the Pensieve. He felt encouraged, safe and loved. In his opinion there couldn't be a better place.

The night was too short for Harry's liking. He dreamed about Cho and his argument with her. It was a sticky, uncomfortable dream and he wished throughout the night that he could just push her annoying image away. But the worst part was not the dream but Sirius who came bounding into his room at an ungodly hour and jumped into his bed. After having bellowed his cheery morning greetings he manhandled Harry out of bed and pushed him into the bathroom.

"I hate you," mumbled Harry before he closed the door and stumbled into the shower.

_At least Grimmauld Place has warm water now_, he mused as he washed himself thoroughly. He remembered last Christmas when everything had still been musty and dirty and all around neglected, despite the combined efforts of several people. A House Elf certainly did wonders.

After the shower he brushed his teeth and tried to tame his unruly hair – without much success. Sighing he gave up and went back into his room. Sirius had left, but not without first putting clothes onto his made up bed.

It was small gestures like this that made Harry's heart melt. He knew without a doubt that he loved Sirius to pieces and always would. Before he could become too melancholy and mushy he dressed and then went down to the kitchen. As expected Sirius and Remus sat there at the long table sippingtea. Harry greeted Twinky and asked for some hot chocolate.

"Morning, Harry," said Remus, "are you awake enough for our little shopping tour?"

"I'll be after some breakfast," replied Harry and grimaced. "By the way, Dumbledore said you should put some glamour charms on Sirius before we leave. And on me, too."

"I know. And I know exactly how I'll style you two." Remus' wicked grin told both Harry and Sirius that they were in for something.

Twinky served rolls, oatmeal and some additional things for a healthy breakfast. Harry helped himself, pointedly ignoring Remus' sly grin. In his opinion, it was too soon for breakfast to be over as Remus pulled his wand from his pocket. Harry didn't even have the desire to admire the new cosiness of the kitchen Twinky had created with fir twigs, tinsel and red bows. It was still dark outside, for Merlin's sake! Even the old street lamps, several of which had been completely vandalized by the Muggles living in that ghetto, didn't manage to light the street very far.

"Now stand still, Siri. It'll take just a few minutes," cooed Remus and pointed his wand at his friend.

After a few spells Harry didn't recognise his own godfather. Remus had changed the length and colour of Sirius' hair – it was now shorter and dark blond – and his eyes, too, had a different colour. Gone were the midnight blue eyes. Now light brown eyes peered out under darker shaded lashes and strands of hair. Remus had also put a glamour on Sirius' frame, making it a bit thinner than he really was.

"I even have the right clothes for you, Paddi," said Remus genially. "If you'll allow … _Escandia_!"

Sirius' leather attire vanished and was immediately replaced with khaki trousers, a white shirt and a suede jacket.

"Wow, Siri, you look great!" said Harry in astonishment.

"I like him better in his tall, dark and sexy look, but this will do until we're done. Now it's your turn, Harry." Remus measured Harry up for a moment, and then started to charm him several times.

"Your clothes are okay," said Remus as he lengthened Harry's hair quite a bit. "But I'll colour your hair brown. Your eyes too; that's more inconspicuous but not unattractive."

"Thank you very much," said Harry and rolled his eyes.

The spells tingled over Harry's body and he wished he could do magic, he really did. He wanted to hex Remus for his teasing. But there was no reason to protest now. Dumbledore was right; they needed the cover. At last Remus attacked him with a small pad and Muggle make-up to cover his scar.

"Done," he said proudly. "There's really no better way to make scars vanish than theatre make up. You look good, Harry."

Sirius grimaced. "I'm feeling like a pimp. Merlin, I could be the twin brother of that git Malfoy! You're cruel, Remus."

Harry snickered; what Sirius said was true, but he looked good despite the slight resemblance to Lucius Malfoy. Guiltily Harry admitted that probably no one could compete with Malfoy, no matter how gorgeous Sirius was. Lucius Malfoy was just too handsome to be normal.

"As long as they don't mistake you for him or some random model_,_ everything should be fine," said Remus nonchalantly. With a casual flick of his wand he coloured his own hair dark brown and his eyes nearly black, like Snape's. "And now come on, it's half past eight."

Harry groaned. Damn his godfathers for their cheery morning personas. Remus ushered him and Sirius to the fireplace in the entrance hall and showed Harry the pot with the Floo powder.

"We're going to Diagon Alley first," he said. "Siri and I need to get some money. We'll change it into Muggle currency there. You'll wait in the Leaky Cauldron for us, okay? Tom will know what to do."

"All right," said Harry.

Sirius grabbed some Floo powder, threw it into the flames, stepped in and said loudly: "Leaky Cauldron!" With a loud SWISH he was gone.

"You're next, Harry. Speak loudly and clearly …" Remus had heard about Harry's first, unfortunate trip by Floo. After laughing himself delirious the concerned side of his personality had won and since then he watched out like a hawk that Harry travelled safely.

"Leaky Cauldron!" shouted Harry and was gone in a flash of green flames.

Remus instructed Twinky once more to watch out for strangers, and then he went after Harry.

Harry hated travelling by Floo with a passion that even rivalled his dislike of Draco Malfoy or the whole Boy Who Lived shit. Even though he had made himself as small as possible he hit his elbows, knees and head on random stones, and when he finally flew out of the fireplace he felt like throwing up the breakfasts of the last ten years.

Pale and with shaky legs he stood up from the floor. Sirius cleaned his clothes and face with a charm and just stepped out of the way when Remus tumbled out of the fireplace with a frightened, "Whoa!". Tom hurried over to them and led them to a secluded corner of the Leaky Cauldron.

"We will be back in a few minutes," said Sirius quietly. "Wait here, and don't do anything stupid, Harry."

Harry saluted cheekily. Remus and Sirius Apparated away, satisfied with his reply. Tom brought Harry a nice cup of tea and winked at him used the opportunity and looked at the other visitors of the pub. There was a bunch of older witches who apparently went out to Diagon Alley for a shopping spree, a few wizards and witches Harry had seen here every single time he had stopped by and some younger people, a few even with small children in tow. It was pure relaxation to be out with nobody recognising him.

Not even ten minutes later Sirius and Remus were back. Their wallets were undoubtedly heavily filled with Muggle bills and coins. Wizarding money was changed ata very good rate of exchange and it was likely that Sirius could buy half of Harrods with his current amount of Muggle money if he wanted.

Grinning from ear to ear Sirius beckoned Harry to come along, and together they left the Leaky Cauldron through the entrance that lead into the Muggle part of London.

It was very cold, but the sun was shining tentatively at the miserable, small remnants of snow on the streets of London, and the faces of the people were red and happy. The Muggle children had holidays now, too, and they dragged their parents around to show them what they wished for Christmas. It was almost frightening how early some people could be out and about.

Harry was grateful for his thick jacket which Sirius had charmed to keep him warm. He and Remus both wore long coats. They looked like they were somehow important, and more than once people turned around and stared at them. Harry grinned to himself and hid his mirth behind his hair. It was long enough for a ponytail and he really liked it, but getting his normal hair back at the end of the day was better.

The official Shopping Horror started even before they reached Harrods. Sirius spotted some nice shirts in a store named _Harvey Nichols_ and promptly dragged Harry and Remus with him. After half an hour and several shops later, of which some had some really expensive names, like Valentino or Armani, Harry had five new shirts, a sexy, snugly sitting jeans and a pair of sneakers. Sirius was all over him and commented on every single item Harry tried on. The sales clerk looked as if he couldn't decide between cooing at the handsome men, laugh about the plain boy who posed for the other two in ridiculous and greatly exaggerated positions and feeling happy about the good sale this morning. When they were out of the shop Harry felt already tired, but Sirius just seemed to have warmed up.

Their next stop was Harrods and there the true terror started. It wasn't that different fromwhat Sirius had feared. A lot of people turned around and looked at Sirius. In some faces Harry could practically see the wheels working. Women looked as if they wanted to just come up to Sirius and ask him if he was a model. Younger people smiled in his direction, ready to pounce the second he smiled back. But Sirius never did. Harry smirked. Remus was certainly satisfied with him.

Sirius wanted to buy Harry's underwear first, claiming that they had more time for the visible fashion by doing so. They rushed through the shops and almost indiscriminately bought underpants. Only the size was right, and thankfully most of the clothes were still black but Sirius insisted on a few underpants in frighteningly flashy colours.

The other thing was socks. Sirius bought a mountain of new socks. And because he shared the same size with Remus and Harry he joked about sharing those socks with each other. It wasn't as if Harry minded, and neither did Remus for that matter. It was just too strange to see Sirius act so hyper and happy over socks.

After the socks-and-pants tour they systematically searched for more shirts, pullovers, jeans, slacks, shoes, gloves, hats and caps. After each shop they quickly shrank their bags and put them in Remus' Bottomless Bag. They only paused for a quick lunch, an appallingly greasy fish and chips dish with remoulade.

Harry used the short break to call Hermione and tell her that she and the whole Weasley family were invited for Christmas. It felt good to do something so normal, just calling and talking to her. She was calm and collected, although she was very glad that they could spend this Christmas together. Hermione promised to write Ron and see how she could meet up with the Weasleys.

After Harry hung up, the world seemed to start spinning again. Sirius came to get him and ruffled his hair playfully.

"Are you hiding, Harry?" he teased.

"No," said Harry resignedly.

"Then come on. We still have another twenty shops to go to."

Harry and Remus groaned in despair. But Sirius didn't listen. They visited every single shop in the exclusive mall. Sirius never cared if he bought sweets or ties, and Harry wondered just how much money Sirius really possessed.

Remus insisted that Harry get new glasses. His old ones looked really battered after so many years. The young salesclerk who advised them recommended angular glasses; she found the round ones he wore absolutely terrible and outdated. Harry silently agreed with her. The new glasses were light and fitting, and the delicate, silvery titanium frame let his now brown eyes shine. The effect would be tenfold if he had his green eyes back, Sirius whispered. The woman sighed longingly in Harry's direction.

When they were done at the optician Harry felt good. The woman had told them his new glasses would be ready in two weeks. Remus agreed to get them for him and send them.

Near the end of their shopping spree Harry managed to drag both men into a shop that sold televisions and radios. Sirius said it was no problem to make these things work. As usual he knew just the right people to help them with it.

Harry happily stalked through the shop and selected huge numbers of CDs, DVDs and games. Ron and the twins would be delighted. When Sirius saw how good the quality of the pictures was he wanted a telly for the Living Room, as well. Harry just giggled and Remus rolled his eyes.

When they were finally done in the evening Harry had the feeling his aching feet would kill him. Even Sirius' bounce had lessened a bit. But considering their long day it was still astounding how chipper he was. Remus was almost growling with irritation and he wasn't as nice as Harry was about it.

"Let's go home, Paddi. Harry is tired, and I could use a nice, hot bath," said Remus sweetly, obviously trying to be nice although he was so irritated that he looked rather murderous despite his efforts not to let his anger show.

"But I know that they have some absolutely gorgeous jackets in Lecomte's. Harry would look really good in them!"

"Harry has clothes for the next three years," said Remus grimly. "Now be a good boy and just quit it."

"But–"

Remus shut him up with a scandalously long, very wet kiss that left the people staring in disbelief, wonderment, glee and consternation. A woman actually clapped her hands over the eyes of her daughter. Harry snorted in laughter.

"Now we _have_ to go or a plolice man will get us," said Remus smugly.

"Police man," corrected Harry. "Or, to put it in Muggle slang, a good old bobby. And yes, displays of affection in public are frowned upon in here. We should go."

"See," said Remus. "Now come, sexy, or we'll have to share a cell tonight. Not that I would mind …"

Sirius grumbled but complied without arguing. They left Harrods quickly and left the two yelling police men behind. The cab drove off just as the police men arrived on the street. Harry laughed and waved at them while Sirius snogged Remus fervently on the backseat of the cab. Revenge might be a dish best served cold, but Sirius' way of inflicting revenge certainly left Remus breathless, and happily so.

When they reached the Leaky Cauldron and paid the cab driver the man told them to "get a bloody room." Harry laughed, Remus blushed and Sirius coolly pushed some strands of his blond hair behind his ear. They disappeared into the Leaky Cauldron and quickly Flooed home. The Floo network that connected them with the outside world was only opened for five minutes. The small time frame made it difficult for invaders to come into Black Mansion to get them.

"You're going first, Harry," said Remus sternly. "Now, be quick."

Harry used the Floo powder and vanished like a lightning bolt in the chimneys of London. Sirius was the next to go. Remus went right after him. Tom had given them a private room with a fireplace to ensure their safe departure. He left a galleon for the old man as a thank you and vanished himself just in time to travel to Grimmauld Place without being closed off.

Back in The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black Harry felt the aches in his tired body more than ever. He kicked his sneakers off his feet and in a corner and limped to the Living Room. Shopping with Sirius really was an adventure. Harry had blisters all over the soles of his feet. And he swore to himself that he would never, ever eat cheap Muggle food again. He knew he was spoiled by the overzealous House Elves of Hogwarts and now Twinky, but he couldn't help it. Greasy fish and chips were simply horrible, and he never wanted to experience that again. The food felt like a stone in his stomach.

"Here you are, Harry," said Remus. He sounded very glad that they were finally home. "_Scourgify_."

"Thanks. The soot was getting in my pants, and don't ask me how. It's one of the unsolved mysteries of our time," said Harry tiredly. "And this hair is creeping me out." He fumbled with his glasses that had mystically survived the travel by Floo in the pocket of his jeans.

"Sorry. _Finite_!" Remus waved his wand shortly, and Harry was once again the black haired, green eyed boy everybody knew so well. "You look better like that, anyway." Remus grinned and started to unpack the shopping bags from his Bottomless Bag. He didn't enlarge them, though.

Harry sighed and piled them into a neat stack on the table. The miniature televisions looked unbelievable cute. "Could Twinky bring that into my room? I think my feet would really kill me if I tried to walk another inch right now."

Twinky popped up, grabbed the bags and vanished with a soft sound.

"What a service," said Harry and grinned gently. "By the way, where's Sirius?"

"Taking his disguise off," replied Remus. He toed off his shoes and plopped onto the couch next to Harry. "He's no doubt planning a great entrance to render me speechless. And he needs to feed Buckbeak."

"Why doesn't he simply let him go?" Harry asked tiredly. "I mean, honestly, Buckbeak can take care of himself, and besides, we might need him at Hogwarts."

"Because of Voldemort's plan?"

"Exactly." Harry sighed. "You know we can ride Thestrals. Last week Hagrid showed us Pegasi. Not everybody has such a good broom as I have. And we might have an advantage if we're flying. Buckbeak is tame enough for those who're too frightened to ride a wild beast."

Remus pondered that. "You might be right. If we bother Siri long enough with it he might send him back into the Forbidden Forest."

Harry sat up a bit and rubbed his sore feet. He looked at the far side of the room, where a huge fir was now standing. It seemed that Twinky had used their absence to set the Christmas tree up for them. It shimmered and glittered and looked just beautiful. Gentle lights flickered softly, and the golden glass balls and red bows reminded Harry of Hogwarts. Only there had he seen such beautiful trees for Christmas; not even Harrods could compare to that.

"Ugh. I'm an invalid. Uhm, Remus? When do you think you will be able to ask these people? The Wiccans, I mean." Harry pulled a face when he touched his sore feet again.

"Soon. Don't worry. The less you know the safer you are. But we will get you some bloody good Wiccans. That I promise."

"Thanks."

They slumped and enjoyed the tea Twinky brought them just seconds later. Sirius apparently took his time in taking Remus' charms off and feeding Buckbeak. Harry was oddly thankful for that; it gave him the opportunity to reacquaint himself with Remus some more.

"So, what have you two done in the last months besides renovating the house?" Harry asked.

Remus chuckled. "Good question. We entertained Buckbeak, housed the Order and had long night talks with our most favourite godson."

Harry grinned. "I know that part. Tell me about your time alone with Siri." He elbowed Remus gently. "You two look good together, really."

Remus blushed heartily and coughed in embarrassment. "I take it that you have no problems with that?" he asked quietly.

"Not at all," replied Harry. "I mean, Seamus and Blaise are together and nobody gives a damn. Why would I now?"

"Well, Sirius is your only family. I thought you might be offended."

"I rather thought that you could be angry with me. Siri is practically all over me," said Harry happily. "Not that I mind." He leaned his head against Remus' shoulder and sighed. "I know he likes you very much and I'm happy that he has you. He was awfully lonely last year."

Remus exhaled softly and took a swig of his tea. "I'm glad," he said finally.

Sirius came down a few minutes later. He looked very happy to have his black hair and blue eyes back, and, of course, his beloved leather clothes. He still looked fresh and eager for any kind of mischief. Thankfully Remus managed to calm him down a bit.

"Honestly, Sirius, one would think you are a dog with too little exercise. I wonder what Snape would say if he hears about that."

"Not to mention the lecture he would give you about being out of the house in these times," added Harry helpfully.

Sirius just snorted and sat down. Harry admired his grace. It was in no way a girlish grace, more like a natural elegance one possessed or not. And Sirius had lots of it. It practically radiated off of him.

From the corner of his eye he saw Remus looking, and he recognised that look. He admired him, and Harry was sure that Sirius' confidence and strength were two of the main reasons Remus was attracted to him. He just wondered if Remus could smell Sirius, too.

"I'm hungry," said Harry after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

"Oh my, it's already past dinnertime," said Remus in mild surprise. "Of course you're hungry. You practically skipped lunch, not that I blame you … Twinky!"

The elf appeared and Remus asked her to set the table for them. Not two minutes later they sat at the richly decorated table, and wonderful smells tickled their noses. Twinky had cooked leek-and-cheese soup, baked fresh bread and roasted meat. Harry forgot the stony lump in his stomach and tucked in.

Sirius asked him how many of the Weasleys wanted to come over, and Harry said truthfully that he had no idea whichof them would come home for Christmas. Silently he hoped to see Bill and Charlie again. Percy wasn't his dearest friend, but he felt terrible for Mrs Weasley. She missed him so much and he simply refused to come home. Harry wanted to kick Percy's ass. The problem was that Percy seemed to live in the Ministry. Any contact between him and the rest of the Weasleys had been severed since last year. And it was likely that he still thought that Harry was a moronic lunatic, despite the appearance Voldemort had made in the Ministry of Magic.

"I hope all of them," said Harry truthfully. "I'd like to see Bill and Charlie again."

Sirius nodded. "I see. Well, I'll see what we can do about that."

"You just want to stare at Bill," accused Remus. "I know you too well, Sirius Black!"

"Me, staring at Bill Weasley?" Sirius said in a mock-hurt voice. "But Moony, when was the last time I looked at Bill?"

"In July, when the whole family was here for a meeting," said Remus in a huff. "Really, Sirius, what does that all have to do withthis?"

Sirius purred with glee. "Oh, everything. If I remember correctly that day was the first day where we–"

"Sirius! Not in front of Harry!" cried Remus, blushing violently.

"-kissed." Sirius chuckled. "And did other things." He turned to Harry. "Moony is a bit jealous, you know–"

"I am not!"

"-and fortunately it made him brave enough to claim what is his." Sirius smiled lovingly at Remus and took his smaller hand in his. "I was just tired of waiting."

Harry didn't know what to say. He knew that this had to be love. He would give a lot, heck, almost anything, to experience feelings like Sirius and Remus did. Last year he had hoped it would be Cho who would make him happy like that. But her girly ideas of a date (Madam Puddifoot's small coffee shop still made him cringe whenever he saw it on a Hogsmeade weekend) just weren't right for him. Besides, what was he supposed to do with a person who was as easily offended as her? He certainly would waste his life with making up for something if he gave in to her pursuit. And he simply didn't want that.

What he wanted was a relationship like the oneSirius and Remus had; something steady where he could feel safe and normal. And it felt good to know that it didn't necessarily have to be a girl in the wizarding world. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would condemn him the second he told them about liking boys a bit more than girls. Not to mention the snide remarks that would make his summer a living hell.

"Harry?" Sirius asked.

Harry snapped out of his thoughts and looked at him questioningly. Sirius' face and the tone of his voice told him that he had called him several times to get his attention. Embarrassed Harry dropped his spoon and hid his unexplainable blush behind his glass.

"We want to play wizarding Monopoly. Do you want to try it?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," croaked Harry and quickly downed the last of his orange juice to wet his dry throat. Thinking about the Dursleys had really messed with him. Scowling he put the glass on the table and stood up.

Sirius gave him a funny look but Remus' elbow stopped him from asking questions. They left the dining table and crossed the Living Room to go to a game table. It stood in front of the second of three fireplaces and gleamed in the firelight. The top was blank, but when Sirius approached the table and said, "Monopoly" a Monopoly board appeared, money flew to three places and twelve little figurines hovered over the board.

"Which figure would you like to have?" Sirius asked.

"The broom rider," said Harry immediately.

"I want the Vampire," said Remus.

The two figurines hovered out of the line and landed with a soft click on the board. Sirius chose a Centaur. The other figurines vanished when they were done.

"You can start if you want, Harry," said Remus. "You'll need it."

Harry took the two dice and threw them across the board.

"Ouch!" cried a high voice.

"That boy sure has a firm hand," said another.

"_What_ the _hell_?!" cried Harry and stood up quickly.

Sirius laughed. "Calm down! These dice are charmed to speak with the players. It's more fun that way! Your figure can talk, too."

"Yes, but I wouldn't listen to it," said Remus smugly. "They might give you ill advice."

Astonished, Harry stared at the still squabbling dice. He had thrown an eight.

"Not bad," he murmured. "I think I'll buy that street."

"Are you sure?" his broom rider asked in a shrill voice. "That's not the most profitable street around the place, you know?"

"I'll take it anyway," said Harry.

The bank took his money and gave him the respective deed. Then it was Sirius' turn, and in one second Harry suddenly understood why this game was so exciting.

"Give me a five," Sirius whispered to the two dice. "I want that train station!"

Remus chuckled. "He tries that every single time!"

Sirius' cursing when the dice sent him to prison instead must have been heard throughout the whole house. Fortunately there were no other inhabitants to disturb. Then it was Remus' turn and the dice sent him onto the eleventh field.

Harry was quite good, despite the fact that he had never really played Monopoly. It was almost like wizarding chess where one had to convince the chess pieces to do what the player wanted. Only here the dice could be bribed to fall onto the numbers one needed and the figures tried to give financial and tactical advice.

After the third round Sirius accioed three glasses, a bottle of wine and a jug of grape juice.

"I'll need that," he grumbled and looked distrustfully at his figure.

Remus took the bottle from his hand and poured himself a glass. "You're such a sore loser, Siri," he said softly. But his voice held a certain smug edge that made Sirius grouse even more.

"Maybe the reason is that I've never _once_ won since the day I started playing that game with you!"

Harry laughed and took the grape juice. He was clever enough not to want wine. It didn't taste that good he knew, and he didn't want to argue with his two godfathers, anyway. Sirius and Remus might be pranksters but they were adamant about Harry's proper upbringing. He grinned behind his hand. It was just too funny to see Sirius rant and rave while Remus taunted him mercilessly. What was alcohol compared to such social entertainment?

After another half an hour the fire in the fireplace suddenly flared up and Snape's head appeared in the flames.

"Hello, Severus," said Remus genially. "How's your evening?"

"Wonderful, Lupin," snarled Snape. His coal black eyes landed on Harry. "Potter, come here."

Harry snorted and stayed where he was.

"This is my house, Snape, and I ask you to be at least civil when you're speaking to a member of my household," said Sirius coldly.

"Household, yes, Black?" Snape sneered.

"What do you want, Professor?" Harry asked, sounding not interested at all.

"That you have to ask, Potter, just shows me what a waste of time you are." His sneer vanished. Instead Snape looked downright condescending. "Unfortunately _Dumbledore_ wishes to educate you."

"Occlumency, then," said Harry. "What luck for you that I can't use my wand during the holidays." Harry smirked.

Snape's lips twitched a bit upwards, but the smile didn't look pleasant at all.

"Yes, how fortunate for me, Potter. I'll see you tomorrow at eight. And on Wednesday again."

"Is that necessary?" Remus asked in a concerned voice. "We'll have visitors on Wednesday. The Weasleys will be here, and if you're training with Harry then no one can guarantee your safety. Molly would want a word with you."

"A word, Lupin? Hardly." Snape sneered even more unpleasantly than before. "But then again you already know that I have a masochistic streak, and being pummelled by rabid Weasleys or other dangerous creatures is my idea of entertainment."

Of course Harry caught the jibe at the trick Sirius, his father and Peter had pulled on Snape when they were young. The bitterness in Snape's voice made him cringe and he wished the man wouldn't make jokes about himself like that. It was morbid and sad.

"Don't do that, Severus," said Remus quietly. "All I ask of you is to come by a few days later."

"Friday, then, Potter," said Snape coldly. "And I expect you to be prepared."

"I will be," said Harry menacingly.

"Good night, Snape," growled Sirius darkly. It was a clear dismissal.

Remus threw Sirius a dirty look and then sighed impatiently. "It's Christmas, for God's sake! Behave like adults for once! Both of you!"

"Sleep well, Lupin. If you can with a mutt in your bed." Snape smirked and then vanished with a soft popping sound.

Harry guessed that this was the maximum of courtesy Snape could muster when it came to Remus. Sighing he realised that he wasn't even surprised that Snape knew about the two. There was very little the man didn't see. It was creepy.

"Damn bastard," said Sirius through gritted teeth. "I hate that greasy, slimy–"

"You were losing," Remus interrupted his ranting. "And it's your turn."

Sirius grumbled and muttered, but he took the treacherous dice and threw them violently over the field. Their complaining amused Harry, and soon he was giggling helplessly at Sirius' expense. Thankfully the mood lightened again. Twinky brought them chocolate and crackers with cheese. The day was good again.

When Harry staggered up to his room that night he discovered that Twinky had put away all his new things. Even the telly and the radio had found a place. Harry had to admit that he would have chosen the same places for his things. Twinky really was a jewel. Content beyond belief Harry got ready for bed and thanked all the known deities for the wonderful start of his holidays.

*********

Tuesday was hectic and funny. The first visitor in the morning was a young man. His name was Jerold Grant. He told Harry that he was a friend of Remus. The glowing eyes revealed his connection - he was a werewolf, too. Sirius knew him and greeted him like an old friend. Jerold was an expert in making Muggle devices work in the wizarding world. And that was exactly what he was doing now. With a few spells he got the televisions and radios going. He also explained to Harry how the DVD player worked.

"There are some pretty good Muggle songs out there at the moment," he said to Harry. "Personally I like R'n'B, Black Music, and even a bit of Metal, too …"

"Really? At Hogwarts we never get to hear music," said Harry curiously. He switched the radio on. "What are the best programs?"

Jerold grinned and programmed Harry's radio and television. "You'll have a lot of fun with that," he said, pointing to Harry's DVD collection on a shelf. "I can recommend 'Snatch'."

Jerold stayed the morning and Harry had a great time with him. Later on Mundungus Fletcher joined them. He brought an armful of dragon hide boots with him.

"Where did you get these?" Remus asked in a disapproving voice. Mundungus dropped his precious burden right under Mrs Black's torn portrait. "Dung, you shan't buy stolen things!"

"They aren't stolen," said Mundungus. "Fred the Fish found them in a back alley and, well, I couldn't resist …"

"You can _never_ resist," laughed Sirius. He passed a bottle of Butterbeer to Mundungus. "Are you coming tomorrow?"

"Of course," replied Mundungus. "But keep Figgy out of my hair. I still have the bumps from last time."

"You abandoned me," said Harry, not completely serious. "You were supposed to watch over me."

"Well, yeah …," Mundungus squirmed uncomfortably. "But there was that cauldron-issue I couldn't pass by …"

"It's always the same with you," growled Moody who just had entered through the main door. He whacked Fletcher over the head with his walking stick and pushed past him.

Mrs Black made a huge ruckus in the entrance hall – the whacking sound must have woken her up despite the sound dampening veil - and Harry walked through the tiny crowd to watch her scream. Her sallow face could colour rather violently, and Harry felt himself reminded of Uncle Vernon. Moody's scary blue eye spun in its socket, and then settled on Harry.

"Merlin, Potter! What did you do with your scrawny bones?" he asked gruffly. "Last time I saw you, you looked like a walking stick."

Sirius looked smugly at Moody and then at Harry. "It seems he had a little growth spurt in the last few months, Moody."

Moody's eye spun even quicker and Harry became dizzy from watching. The entrance door opened again and Tonks squeezed through. Immediately Moody's magical eye rolled back and looked through the back of his head. Harry shuddered.

Tonks, who was Moody's regular companion, looked at the unveiled painting of Mrs Black. Harry noticed that she wasn't too impressed with her state of destruction. Remus and Sirius greeted her with quick hugs and Mundungus nodded at her. Tonks quickly movedaway from the entrance door and walked over to Mrs Black's portrait. She listened to her incessant screeching, then started to blow bubblegum bubbles in her face and scrunched her cute nose at her. Her outfit today resembled a Japanese school girl: black hair, white skin, almond shaped eyes, tiny nose and the obligatory Scottish tartan skirt and white blouse.

"Oh, hi Harry," she said brightly when she noticed him. "That old hag is still hanging around? I thought she would be down by the time you were here. I really thought Moony would do better than that."

"They wanted Moony to have more fun the next full moon," said Harry and laughed. "Hello, it's so good to see you again." He hugged her tightly. "Are you staying over Christmas?"

"I planned to. But I have to wait and see what Dumbledore will say. And Moody is not that social if you know what I mean."

"I thought he would enjoy himself in our group," Harry chuckled.

"Tonksie, we're staying," said Moody loudly, turning around clumsily. "I just heard that Snape will come over tonight. I have to see the old bat!"

"Wonderful!" chirped Tonks and smiled. "Still studying Occlumency with Snape, Harry? How's it going?"

"Well, he tries to wreck me down," said Harry truthfully. "But I'm getting better."

"I'm taking medi-lessons now," said Tonks conversationally. She fingered her nose and remodelled it into a fat, potato-like thing that looked absolutely ridiculous in her tiny face. Sirius and Remus roared with laughter when she spun around and presented herself to them. Proudly Tonks turned back to Harry. "I can patch you up if Snape's tearing you apart."

"Oh, thank you," said Harry dryly. "Snape will jump at the chance. A scar more or less – who cares?"

Moody kicked him with his wooden leg. "Stop whining, Potter. I expect you to kick Snape's ass tonight."

"Ow!" exclaimed Harry angrily. "You can say that, but I'm the one who has to suffer!"

"I wouldn't be friends with Snape if I wanted an easy life," said Moody and smiled his grim smile. His destroyed face looked even scarier that way.

"Friends with–," Harry choked.

"Well, there's a little bit of insanity in everyone of us," Sirius deadpanned. "Only some of us haven't discovered our share of it yet."

"You know your share very well, Black," replied Moody coolly. Both of his eyes glared at Sirius, and Sirius glared right back.

Tonks grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him back into the Living Room. Her quick action didn't hinder Harry from noticing that even Mundungus had become quiet, and that Remus looked sad and dejected.

"Let them handle it," said Tonks quietly. "Old issues … come on …"

"What's going on?" demanded Harry once they had left the corridor and entered the room. "What was Sirius' insanity? And why is everybody so serious all of a sudden?"

Tonks sighed and turned around to face him. Only, now she had to look up one and a half heads to meet his eyes.

"Oh, very well. It isn't as if it wasn't your right to know it. Sirius Black's fair share of insanity was, well, your father, Harry. When he died …" She shook her head and looked away. "Everybody knew that they were joined at the hip in their school days. He loved him like a brother. He would have done everything for James. Even I could see it, and I was a small child at that time."

Harry felt his throat constrict. Suddenly he was very glad for their seclusion. Tonks led him to a chair and pressed him down gently.

"Why are you so surprised, Harry?" she asked quietly.

"I … I don't understand … Why insanity?" Harry croaked out. "I mean, befriending Snape–"

"Moody bears his sharp tongue. Snape is lonely, and it's basically his own fault, too. But he and Moody have fought next to each other for longer than you or even I have been alive, and he's determined not to let Snape down. As to insanity … Snape is Moody's soft spot. He would never admit it out loud, but everybody knows it."

"And how do Sirius and my father relate?" Harry stood up and raked his fingers through his ever unruly hair. "This is sick …"

"What I heard," said Tonks slowly, "and I can only tell what I've heard, is that James was crazy about Sirius. They lived together for a few years. You know that he left his family because of his allegiances."

"Yes," said Harry thickly.

"For James he was the brother he never had, the best friend." Tonks sniffled ominously. "Such friendships are rare these times. They were each other's insanity. Just as Remus is Siri's greatest weakness and you're his greatest strength."

Harry gulped. He couldn't say anything. Tonks shrunk her nose back and wiped her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't want to upset you. It's just … no one ever believes that Moody really likes Snape, and then they start fighting and–"

"I understand," Harry interrupted her rambling. He still felt a bit shaky although not really knowing why. "I just … is that a common … thing in the wizarding world?"

"What do you mean?" Tonks asked.

"Well, having a weakness, strength and a bit of insanity." Harry felt really stupid to say it like that.

"Oh, no." Tonks smiled and wiped her eyes completely dry. "It's a bit of being an insider in the Order, you know. Everybody here has issues and a vivid past."

Harry sighed. "Now I feel better."

"I heard from Gred and Forge that the Chang-girl dumped you last year," Tonks suddenly said. "What happened?"

"She just pissed me off," replied Harry. He was glad that she was changing the topic.

"And? Is there somebody else already?" Tonks asked. "Why do I always have to pull it out of you?"

"There is no one," said Harry in a defeated voice. "And you are not helping."

"I see the signs. You're feeling woebegone and unloved," Tonks sighed happily. "Oh, the heartbreaks … what about Hermione?"

"Would I kiss my sister?"

"Uhm, Ginny?"

"Nope. She's with Dean."

"Er … okay, I don't know any other cool girls. Would you take a bloke?" Tonks' glittering eyes scared Harry a bit.

"Before you start to list the whole male Weasley population: no." Harry quickly left the Living Room and left a loudly laughing Tonks behind.

He fled to his room and locked the door behind himself. Scowling he threw himself onto the bed and switched the telly on. Jerold had shown him some music channels and he just listened for a while to calm his nerves. Some blokes, he discovered, could dance pretty well. He allowed himself a bit of self-pity for his lacking dancing skills. Parvati probably had scarred him for life.

When the video of someone named Usher started he sat up with sudden interest. That dance style looked easy. And the text wasn't that girly and sappy, either. Relieved that there were some guys out there who could dance in a manly manner and not just sob stupid love declarations in the microphone, he watched the video. The next was of that Spears-girl. He had heard her songs sometimes on the radio when he was at the Dursleys and Dudley had managed to switch his favourite radio program on. There weren't many bands he knew. At Hogwarts he never heard music, and at his relatives' house in Little Whinging, Surrey, Aunt Petunia always listened to some stupid oldies program.

He threw himself back on his bed and just listened to the funny sounds of "Toxic," trying to imagine what it would be like to feel such jealousy that you just wanted to poison your lover. There had to be lots and lots of feelings involved; wonderful.

Sighing, he drifted off. No one disturbed him until it was lunchtime and Remus came to get him.

Moody and Tonks sat next to each other at the long table, flanked by Mundungus and Jerold. Sirius patted the seat to his left and beckoned Harry over.

"Sorry that we were arguing, Harry. Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah."

Remus looked a bit doubtful but sat down in the seat to Sirius' right. Twinky served them roasted potatoes, vegetables and steak. The next few minutes passed in silence. When the first appetite was satisfied a light conversation started. Tonks told them about a Ministry raid in Birmingham that had ended horribly for her partner; Jerold grinned broadly when Harry mentioned the Usher guy and his liking for that kind of dance and Remus and Sirius already discussed which books to show Harry first. Mundungus seemed to be deep in thought. That or he was simply worrying about the dragon hide boots that were still lying in the entrance hall under Mrs Black's portrait.

When lunch was over Jerold whisked Harry away from the others.

"So, you like Muggle music, do you?" he asked and grinned.

"Well, what I heard was good," said Harry cautiously.

"I could teach you how to dance," Jerold offered. "I heard from Remus that you are not that good at classical dances." He winked. "But honestly, who wants to dance the classics, anyway?"

"You can dance like that?" Harry asked. "I mean, how?"

"I am Muggle born," said Jerold and shrugged. "I went to a school and learned it."

"Cool."

"So, are you up to it?"

Harry looked at him and considered the offer. Today he had his lesson with Snape, and he really wanted to have some fun beforehand.

"Okay," he said eventually. "Let's go to my room."

Jerold smirked. "I'm feeling really privileged right now."

"Shut your trap," said Harry and punched him lightly. From the corner of his eye he saw Mundungus Fletcher creep back to his abandoned shoes and count them through. He shook his head and headed up the stairs, Jerold in tow.

As soon as they entered Harry's room the telly was turned on and music sounded in the air. Jerold picked a random R'nB song and showed Harry how dancing to that kind of music basically looked.

Harry watched closely. It looked cool when Jerold was dancing, but he wasn't sure if he could do that. He usually felt like a klutz in his own body with the two exceptions of duelling and flying. The young werewolf ran his hands through his dark brown hair and grinned.

"You'll look good if you've got the gist of it, I promise. You're already wearing the right clothes. Come on!" He grabbed the remote control and turned the volume up. "Just try it. It's just me."

Harry complied hesitantly. Jerold put his hands on his waist and directed his movements.

"The good thing with music is you can do what you want. Just feel it. Go with the flow." Jerold swayed a bit and let Harry dance alone.

Harry felt really stupid during the first minutes. He tried to copy Jerold's movements but found that he couldn't go with them. He had to find his style alone. Thankfully his new friend was joking around a lot and made a little show of really dorky movements he had seen in some clubs.

"Maybe it's easier for you if you're trying it alone," he said after a while. "I started that way, too, before I went to that school."

Harry nodded. He wondered if Fred and George or the other Weasley boys ever fooled around like this. But it felt good to move; being cooped up in a house the whole holidays was not his idea of relaxation. At Hogwarts he could stroll through the castle as much as he wanted. Relieving stress, some people called it.

Jerold grinned. "Don't worry, you didn't look half bad. What I see sometimes in the clubs is just stupid. You'd have your fun there." He looked at his wristwatch. "Oh darn, so late already!"

"What's up?" Harry asked.

"My girlfriend is waiting at home and I still have to buy some groceries. I really don't want to go tomorrow."

Harry chuckled. "I see. Thanks for your lesson. I'll try."

"I'm holding you to that," replied Jerold and opened the door. His shoes flew onto his feet and the laces tied themselves when he waved his wand. "Take care, Harry, and don't let Snape get to you."

"I won't," said Harry.

They went down the stairs together. Remus and Sirius already waited for them at the entrance door.

"I wondered when you would remember your obligations," said Remus.

"It's easy to forget the time with Harry," Jerold laughed. "I hope Fran isn't too upset with me." He opened the door. "Thanks for the nice day. Maybe I can come visit you again during the holidays, Harry."

Remus pulled Jerold into a hug. "Merry Christmas, whelp. Greet your family."

Sirius hugged him as well. "And have a good look at Patty, will you?"

"Yes, of course." Jerold grabbed Harry and squeezed him. The protesting gasp made him laugh. "See you, guys. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas," Sirius and Harry called after him.

The last few hours before the dreaded lesson Harry watched TV and listened to the different styles of music. He liked R'n'B best, though.

A little bit later Sirius grabbed him, switched the telly off and dragged him down into the Living Room for some sweets and coffee. Mundungus had put his shoes away and Mrs Black's portrait was once again veiled with the silencing cloth.

"What did Dung do with the boots?" Harry asked and wrinkled his nose.

"Mundungus didn't do anything - Remus stuffed them into the closet. People kept falling over them," replied Sirius. "Although I would have liked to see Snivellus crash over the lot."

"Yeah, he di'n ask me," sniffed Mundungus and took a bite of his cake.

Tonks and Moody played Exploding Snap on the game table, and by the looks of it Moody was currently losing. Harry winked at Tonks just as the cards exploded in Moody's face. Tonks' laughter was infectious.

Remus shovelled chocolate cake onto Harry's plate and poured him a cup of coffee. "What were you doing with Jerold?" he asked curiously. "Was he trying anything? It might interest Fran, his girlfriend."

"Oh, just … fooling around," replied Harry quickly. "Why do you always assume people want to come on to me?"

Sirius just snorted. "Never mind, Harry."

Harry looked at them suspiciously but let the topic drop. Mundungus' eyes darted around the room nervously, and Harry became slowly annoyed by his nervous behaviour. Thankfully, it was Sirius who lost his patience, not him.

"What's up with you today, Dung? Are you all right?" he snapped.

Mundungus shifted in his seat. "Yeah, yeah. Just dun' like it when my things are outta reach …"

Harry raised an eyebrow. The Order had never done anything against his kleptomaniacal urges. Why did the man suddenly feel so insecure? It wasn't as if they would start to take his things away, stolen or otherwise acquired. Remus stood up and took the empty cake plate.

"I'll just get another one, all right? Siri, is there enough coffee in the pot?"

Sirius lifted the pot. "No, you better tell Twinky to brew another one."

"Okay."

Remus left and Harry started to eat his cake.

"This is good," he said to Sirius who was currently adding milk and sugar to his coffee.

"I know. Twinky comes from an old family of House Elves who served in Switzerland for a very long time. They make the best chocolate."

Harry enjoyed every bite of the cake. It was creamy and soft and simply delicious. Tonks and Moody joined them and emptied the coffee pot for good. A few minutes later Remus came back, balancing a new chocolate cake in his left hand and a huge coffee pot in his right hand. Sirius looked at him. Remus looked back. Moody's mouth twisted slightly.

"Looks fine, Lupin," he growled. "Maybe the squirrel could do with another." He looked at Mundungus, then at Tonks with a foreign softness. "It always helps to lift the mood."

"Yes, please," said Mundungus. "I'm not feeling well at all … Figgy will have my head if she finds out that I bought these boots, and I don't want to think about Kingsley …" He started to eat the slice Remus had put on his plate.

Harry leaned forward a bit. Something didn't seem right. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he was glad that he carried his wand always with him, no matter the consequences if he should actually use it.

Moody's grin broadened. His chopped off nose crinkled even more. Tonks speared a piece of cake with her fork but didn't eat it. She just twirled it around and looked at Mundungus with half closed eyes. Her free hand played with one of her pigtails.

After a second Harry knew why no one else was eating. There was a hearty POP and suddenly Mundungus Fletcher was no longer sitting there.

"I thought that much," said Moody offhandedly. "Remus, I trust you prepared only one piece of cake?"

"Of course," Remus chirped. He handed the lifter to Moody and sat down. "We don't want to get indigestion, do we?"

Harry just stared with open mouth at Hestia Jones. At least he believed that this was her name. She had been one of the witches and wizards that had gotten him out of Privet Drive last year.

"Honestly, Hestia, you should learn to study your model better," Sirius admonished playfully, unknowingly confirming Harry's supposition. "Mundungus would never have been so uncomfortable with all those things in this house."

"You don't understand," snapped Hestia Jones. "Half of these shoes are my own, the rest belong to my sister. And now kindly shut up!"

"Dumbledore does that sometimes," Tonks explained to Harry when she noticed his incredulous stare. "He sends someone from the Order under disguise to test our awareness. Today was easy, but last time Kingsley was disguised as Moody, and he was really convincing …" She blushed and couldn't look Harry in the eyes for a moment.

"It all worked out in the end," growled Moody darkly. "But I would appreciate it if Kingsley would keep his hands to himself and off of things that don't belong to him."

Remus chuckled. "It was really funny. Moody almost hexed Kingsley's ass off."

"And it _did_ heighten Tonksie's awareness," taunted Sirius. He helped himself and Harry to a second slice of cake, and then Tonks took the lifter and took one, too.

"Shut up," she mumbled. "Just because they didn't impersonate your–"

"What was that stuff you used, Remus?" Harry asked, successfully interrupting Tonks' sentence. Sirius looked rather grateful for that.

"Oh, a simple revealing potion that immediately counters Polyjuice Potion. Snape makes it for us, of course." Remus pulled a vial from his jeans pocket and handed it to Harry. "And it gives indigestion to anybody who hasn't taken Polyjuice. Each one of us carries a flask, just in case."

"Oh. Cool." Harry gave the potion back.

"It is very important that we know the other members of the Order really well," said Sirius sternly. "We have to know little quirks an outsider can't know. It's for our safety."

Harry absorbed that information. It obviously meant that he should start looking for minor things that could identify his friends and reveal possible impostors.

"Erm, Moody?"

"Just ask, Potter," said Moody. His terrible smile was genuine and the blue, magical eye rested on his face.

"Can you see through Polyjuice Potion?" Harry asked.

"I wish I could," replied Moody grimly. "It would have saved me a lot of trouble."

"For those cases we have the Black Trap Map," said Sirius cheerfully. "Remy and I put some nice traps into this house – added to the ones that were already here, of course."

"Black Mansion had some … influential visitors years ago," Remus explained carefully. "And we weren't entirely sure how much Regulus told Voldemort. We needed to upgrade the house."

"Black Trap Map," said Harry in amusement. "A wonderful tongue-breaker, isn't it? I thought more along the lines of _'Black Moon Corporation presents The Complete Marauders' Map for The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_'."

Tonks and Sirius laughed while Moody snorted. Hestia looked nervously out of the door to the closet where Remus had banished the shoes.

"Are you sure you have gotten rid of all the vermin? My sister will kill me if there's one thread of her precious shoes missing."

"Don't worry, Hestia, your shoes are safe in that closet," said Remus. He was still chuckling about Harry's impossibly long title for their map.

"Is Dumbledore coming over during the holidays?" Harry asked.

"He wants to," said Sirius, licking his spoon clean. "Another cup of coffee, Harry?"

"Yes, please."

Harry watched as Sirius poured the coffee and mixed milk and sugar in it. He had never paid that much attention to coffee, but as nobody said anything at the moment he just looked as Sirius prepared his cup and handed it back to him.

"Did the Weasleys say anything about tomorrow?" Moody asked suddenly.

"No. Harry called Hermione yesterday and she said she would contact the Weasleys," said Sirius. "But my guess is that they will arrive tomorrow afternoon."

"I'll check that," replied Moody gruffly. "I wanted to firecall Arthur anyway. Some fool tried to get into the Department of Mysteries again."

"I bet it was Umbridge," said Harry bitterly. "If we could just get rid of her …"

"I don't know why Dumbledore saved her," agreed Moody. "She's a foul bitch. No one knows how she could rise so high in so little time after her suspension."

"And Arthur is raving mad by now," sighed Remus. "He will do anything to bring Umbridge down."

Tonks snorted. "Impossible. Dumbledore is banned from the Ministry–"

"_What_?!" roared Harry. "Banned? What reasons did they give for that?"

"Calm down, Harry. Fudge managed it four years ago, and he did it again. With Umbridge as Great Inquisitor of the Ministry he can pretty much do whatever he wants."

"Great Inquisitor of the–," Harry choked. "I can't believe it! There was not one word in the papers! Hermione would have sent her a Howler the second she'd read it!" He slammed his cup down and spilled the coffee on the fine table cloth. "Great Inquisitor indeed!"

"That's the reason no one knows about it," said Tonks calmly. "But well, you knowhow it is … certain information just leaks out …" She grinned darkly. "And it isn't as if Voldemort doesn't know about it, either. With all his minions in the Ministry, MacNair, Malfoy … They can't keep secrets from getting out."

"I bet she sits behind their desks with her stupid clip board and asks questions while the people are trying to work!" Harry was beyond angry. He remembered all the times Umbridge had disturbed the class with her disgusting "Hem, hem!" and her presumptuous questions about the teachers' lives and methods of teaching. "And it was she who sent the Dementors to Privet Drive! They can give the Ministry to Voldemort right now! With a red bow on top!"

Hestia stared at him with bright eyes. "Oh, the boy can talk!"

"Of course I can talk," snapped Harry. "I-hate-that-Umbridge-cow!" He thought about her sweet, false smile and her toad-like, broad mouth and her horrid clothes, and the air around him crackled with energy.

"Uh, Harry–"

"Let him, I think it's interesting," said Moody to Remus. "It's good to vent some anger every now and then."

"But … my house," said Sirius, sounding quite desperate.

Harry took a few, deep breaths and regained control over his feelings. Forks and saucers clattered back onto the table.

"Are you feeling better now?" Moody asked, smiling quirkily.

"Hn," grunted Harry. Then he pushed his cup and saucer away. "No, actually I'm not. I would be if I could throttle her." He stared absently at his right hand where the very faint lines of his detention with Umbridge were still visible. He decided that throttling was only acceptable if there was some manual torture applied beforehand. It wasn't just he who had had his hand slashed open by her sick quill. She had given Lee detention, too, and most likely a hundred other students he didn't know about.

The others followed his look. Sirius growled and his hair stood on end. Remus' eyes narrowed dangerously. Moody's magical eye spun in its socket, but the real, pearly eye remained fixated on Harry's right hand. Tonks looked downright murderous. Only Hestia seemed clueless, but Harry didn't care. It was enough for him that the people he cared for cared for him in return. And it felt really good just to be a kid and let the adults handle everything.

He silently hoped that Umbridge was eaten by some monster that was hidden away in the Ministry of Magic.

"She is indeed snooping around," said Tonks in annoyance. "She already fired two Unspeakables although they're saved from dismissal. Unless, of course, they're working against the Ministry."

"The woman is crazy, and Fudge is gibbering at her feet," added Moody through gritted teeth. "That man is the worst Minister of Magic our world has ever had."

The others grunted in agreement, then toasted with the cold remnants of their coffee to Albus Dumbledore.

When Snape arrived at Grimmauld Place a few hours later it was a quarter to eight and Harry was practicing for the lesson. His defence was a maze of simple walls and empty corridors that led into nothing. In some corners Harry had put some insignificant memories, in others some things concerning Voldemort, but mainly he put in his fear (that would please the bastard), his stubbornness and his will to defeat him. He was working on strewing some childhood memories in and planting parts that could lead Voldemort the wrong way.

He was just waking from his trance when Twinky popped into his room to announce Snape's arrival. Harry sighed long and tiredly and got up.

As soon as he stepped down the last step he noticed Snape who was just handing his cloak to Tonks and talking quietly to Moody. He didn't seem to be cordial but at least civil. But then he spotted Harry, and the empty expression on his face twisted into one of contempt and malicious glee.

"Here we go," muttered Harry.

"Behave, Harry. Tomorrow the others come … and it won't take too long …," said Tonks quietly and turned away to hang Snape's black cloak onto the rack.

"Come on, Potter. I don't want to waste any more of my evening with you than I have to," said Snape smoothly.

Sirius stepped out of the Living Room and regarded Snape coolly. "Snape," he said and crossed his arms. "How are you doing on such a fine evening? Are you out to scare some children?"

"Only one child, Black," Snape sneered. "Yours, to be exact."

Harry snorted. Snape whipped around to him.

"Which room may we use, Black?" Snape asked without taking his eyes off of Harry. "I think you wouldn't appreciate it if we … damage your things."

"It would hardly be considered courteous if you did," replied Sirius even cooler. "But then again you aren't known for your politeness or good manners, Snape." He smirked. "You may use the second room to the left on the fourth floor."

Harry smiled softly at Sirius and then led the way back up the stairs. He knew exactly which room that was. It was the most shabby, destroyed room in the whole house, and it had some interesting functions. He could feel Snape's mocking eyes on his behind – his wand stuck out of his jeans pocket, and no matter how often Moody or other people told him not to do that, he did it just the same. Only when he wore shirts with tight sleeves did he hide his wand there. But tonight he wore a new wool pullover over his short-sleeved shirt and thus he used the jeans pocket.

"You are aware of the fact, Potter, that you shouldn't use your wand in this lesson," said Snape calmly, silkily behind him. "Unless you want to have another detention with Dolores Umbridge for being naughty."

"I wouldn't call it naughtiness," replied Harry acidly. "How about downright cheeky? Or maybe moronic. That was her favourite." If anything at all, Harry thought, Dolores Umbridge needed no particular reason to get him in her stubby fingers.

They climbed up the stairs and Harry cursed the man for not even breathing harder from all the climbing. If he had to give Snape something it was his fitness and self-control.

Harry opened the door to the appointed room with a softly whispered password. Snape stepped through and sneered at the obvious lack of renovation. With a soft clicking sound the door fell shut and the lock clanked into place. Wards surged up and closed the room magically against all intrusions. Snape took the poor surroundings in, taking his time in looking at this or that. He didn't seem to be overly concerned with the wards although he certainly felt them.

"I knew Black was a lazy dog," said Snape softly, blowing dust from a broken picture frame, "but that some rooms in his own house still look like a remake of the Shrieking Shack is news to me." He looked at Harry, and his black eyes burned with hateful smugness. "Then again, I'm not overly surprised."

Harry looked calmly at Snape and thanked Remus and Sirius for his Pensieve. He had put his memory of the Malfoy Kiss in there. This was really something he didn't want Snape to know; ever. It was bad enough that he liked it to look at the older Malfoy lately. There was no need to ring the alarm bells further. And, of course, he had locked away all memories of Voldemort's possible other plan and the pull Harry had felt in various dreams. He wouldn't give Snape that satisfaction.

"I would say 'wand out', Potter, but for obvious reasons I don't," said Snape. He actually smiled, which was even scarier than his scowl or his patented death glare. "Now be a good boy and put it on the table over there …"

Harry pulled the wand from his back pocket and put it on the table, just as Snape had requested. Smiling, he noticed the unfocused Legilimency Snape used. It bounced off of his defence walls and flew back in every direction. He could practically feel it. All that training had sensitised him, and he was getting hyper-aware of the magic that people used around him. It was good and frightening at the same time.

"You're getting better, Potter," said Snape suddenly. "But don't believe for one second that I can't see if you're lying to me just because you manage to fend me off that way."

Harry remained silent.

"You're too impulsive to hide your emotions from me," Snape went on. "Just like your father was. Stupid, wearing your heart on your sleeve, not caring for consequences …" He whipped his own wand out.

Harry's eyes looked at it for a second and imagined it in Hermione's small hand.

"What did you talk about with Hermione last Wednesday?" he asked suddenly. "We never got all the juicy details from her."

Snape stared at him. Then he visibly pulled himself together, fingering his wand unconsciously.

"That's hardly your concern, Potter. Brace yourself–"

"You must have been a _beast_, Professor. Going at a simple school girl like that, scaring her to death …," Harry pried further. He knew that this was a sore spot for Snape, not only because of the talk with Dumbledore but also that a student had been able to rile him up so much.

"I doubt that Miss Granger was scared to death, Potter," said Snape and sneered. "And I can assure you that she's not _simple_. Now stop it and get ready for–"

"And why is it always her?" said Harry, again interrupting Snape shamelessly. "Just because she's brave enough to say what she thinks? You are a coward, Snape. No one dares to tell you what a bastard you are. Only she, and look what you've done. Three hundred points from Gryffindor and two months worth of detention." He looked coolly at Snape. "Congratulations. In abusing your position, you're really a master."

Snape was deathly pale and trembling with rage. The wand gleamed in his fist. Harry wondered if it would break under the pressure; Snape gripped it so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"Shut up, Potter," he ground out. "Shut up before I make you." His voice was barely audible, yet Snape could have yelled the words, so clear were they to Harry.

"Then _make_ me, Snape. Do you think I fear you because you can use a wand and I cannot?" Harry took a step closer to Snape and looked him over. "I wouldn't be too sure in this room. And just because I'm not telling you what I think doesn't mean that I don't have the guts. I. Don't. Care. About. House points." He smirked. "And if you hex me you'll have to answer to Sirius and Remus. We're not at Hogwarts, and Dumbledore isn't here. Just try it, come on."

Harry watched Snape breathing shallowly, still trembling and visibly restraining himself. He slanted his eyes and hissed in disgust.

"I don't know what Hermione sees in you. Despite everything you did she respects you. Why, I'll never understand. But from me you'll get nothing that you haven't earned." Harry uncrossed his arms and raised his chin. "Well?"

"You're an obnoxious brat, Potter," Snape pressed out. "The vilest _child_ I've ever had the misfortune to meet." He took a deep breath through his prominent nose, never leaving Harry's upright, defiant form with his burning eyes.

"And you're the most pathetic excuse for a man I've ever seen," Harry shot right back. "Just because I look like my father you're projecting your hate on me – how miserable. Did you ever think about therapy? Productive talking helps, they say."

"Potter–" Snape bared his teeth like an animal just before it attacks. Harry knew he was pushing it but he needed to tell Snape exactly what he thought of him. Snape's wand hand became very still.

"Or are you above that?" said Harry snidely. "I tell you what, Snape. I have had _enough_ of your idea of talking. Every single class you have gone on and on and _on_ about my father, how pathetic he was, how stupid and how insufferable, but I tell you what: I'm tired of hearing you talk!" He stepped up to Snape and actually pushed him. "You obviously like to talk. And I don't want to fucking _listen_. _Get_ that, Snape!" He grabbed Snape's wand and ripped it out of his grasp.

Snape's face changed from white to red in less than a second. It should have been alarming, but Harry just flung Snape's wand away to a corner of the room and waved him closer with a condescending movement of his hand.

"Come on, Snape," he said, "_Hit_ me."

"I will, Potter," said Snape in his deadliest voice. "Oh trust me, I _will_."

In retrospect, Harry thought that nothing was as good as a good fistfight to let out some unhealthy aggressions. Snape had attacked him like a deadly snake, swiftly and mercilessly. Harry thought he somehow should have known that Snape was a good manual fighter. The man was impossibly quick and agile, something Harry would never have suspected if he had known Snape only from the classroom. They yelled at each other, challenged, insulted, pummelled. But Harry had given as good as he'd gotten, and now, half an hour after the first strike, they both lay on the dirty floor, panting, choking and feeling deliciously tired.

"I hate you, Snape," said Harry. His jaw hurt where Snape had hit him. "You're one hell of a bastard. Greasy, ghastly, pathetic git."

"Be glad that I'm too put out to move, Potter," replied Snape grumpily. "At least you're showing more creativity than the other students."

"Yeah, the ghastly between greasy and git is new. You deserve it, though." Harry coughed and held his ribs. "And just so you know it: I'm not sorry. Not in the least. You deserved all of it. And you'd get even more if I could."

"You're always so quick with you mouth, Potter," Snape sneered. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the damage Harry had inflicted. "I can only hope that you learn to watch your tongue better. See what that brought you."

"Shut the fuck up, Snape," Harry hissed. "You should take some advice every now and then yourself." He looked at Snape and sneered.

His professor's robe was torn in various places, his right eye was black and horribly swollen, some ribs had to be cracked and he had various cuts and bruises everywhere. Harry wasn't looking much better himself, though. Actually he sported a nice shiner himself, his left cheek was swelling where Snape had hit him and he winced when he tried to put pressure onto his right hand – that last punch in Snape's face had been apparently too much for it. He had some cuts here and there, too, and bruises on his ribcage and stomach.

"And you could wash your hair more often," added Harry meanly.

"How about some new glasses, Potter? You look like a complete dork with yours," retorted Snape just as meanly.

"Git."

"Dopey dork."

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

"Shut up, Snape."

When they limped down to the Living Room eventually the others didn't even look surprised. Remus just brought them a first aid kit and some potions and they started to patch themselves up. For once Harry was glad that Snape made all the vile-tasting concoctions. One healing potion of Snape was potent enough to heal all the bruises and cuts and his hurting jaw, and a salve, gingerly applied to his shiner, soothed the tender skin and let it heal in just a few minutes.

"Merlin, Potter," said Snape sourly, "Where did you learn to claw like a girl?" He smeared some salve on his exposed left forearm. Harry had slashed the Dark Mark with his fingernails. He couldn't remember doing it but felt smug about it all the same. Snape didn't seem to be too terribly sorry about it, either.

Moody did one last healing spell on the both of them when they were done with the potions and creams.

"I don't get it," he said. "Snape, since when are you hitting students?"

"I was just hitting this one," Snape sneered. "And Potter practically begged for it."

"Snape's confusing the facts," said Harry smugly. "I asked him to, and he was so riled up about my little speech that he–"

"Shut your trap, Potter," warned Snape. "One more word and I'll hex you."

"Hexing me, the unarmed Harry Potter? What a blow to your pride," mocked Harry. "You know that you can only beat me if I have no wand in my hand."

"That's maybe true," said Snape softly, glaring at Harry, "But that doesn't mean I won't enjoy it." He raised his wand and said loudly: "_Rictosempra_!"

"_Protego_!" roared Sirius. His spell was so strong that Snape's hex bounced off and merrily smashed a window.

"Wonderful, Snape," commented Moody. "You really should know better than to attack this whelp. Moron."

"Cripple," replied Snape fondly. "Is it my fault that Black can't control his own strength?" Despite his sour expression and closed up behaviour, Harry thought he enjoyed himself.

Tonks repaired the window while Remus took the first aid kit back into the bathroom. Only now Harry realised that Hestia Jones wasn't with the others. Apparently she had taken her leave to take the borrowed shoes back to their owner. Harry and Snape stared at each other in a silent challenge.

"Our lesson is still taking place tonight," said Snape eventually. "You have half an hour."

Harry just sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This would not be pretty.

*********

The next morning was too bright for Harry. His head was somehow completely empty and only filled with some fuzzy, soft stuff. After yawning, stretching and cracking some joints he groped for his glasses, slipped them on and tried to regain his senses.

Occlumency.

He and Snape had fought each others like hyenas would have fought for a pretty piece of carrion. Half healed, angry red slashes on his arms confirmed that it hadn't been nice yesterday night. His wand hand felt warm, and so did his belly. Most disturbing was his black out. He couldn't remember anything about the actual lesson.

He took the Pensieve and his wand and looked into the misty swirls of smoke. Gasping he dropped his wand when he recognised that his Pensieve was full of memories, and a lot of them weren't his own. Frowning and just a little bit shaky he took his wand again and touched the surface of the Pensieve's strange contents.

Like a huge wave, memories about last night crashed back down on him. He saw the entrance of Grimmauld Place number twelve, of his childhood, pictures of another child who sat in a dark corner of a huge room and just cried while his parents were arguing and fighting. He saw Snape in his laboratory, Snape getting the Dark Mark, Snape breaking a vial, Snape bowing to Voldemort, Snape pacing his office in the dead of the night and rubbing the hated tattoo on his left forearm …

Harry sucked the whole Pensieve empty, unable to stop it although he tried, bringing it all back to him. It was almost too much for him to handle; the flood of Snape's memories didn't seem to get thinner, but actually became more and more the longer he admitted the streak of jumbled thoughts and glimpses in his head.

When he was done he had the feeling it had taken hours and hours, although, in reality, he hadn't been sitting longer than a few minutes on his bed. His head swam with Snape's memories. Some of them were a hundred times worse than the memory he had seen in Snape's Pensieve last year. How could the man regard an incident in his youth as worse than the branding of his own skin? Worse than the torture Voldemort had bestowed upon him several times? And the list went on like this.

Harry tried to stand up, only to reel back and clutch his rebelling stomach. It was obviously not healthy to carry that much foreign memory stuff around. Groaning, Harry tried to breathe evenly and calm himself down. A quick glimpse at his clock told him that it was already ten in the morning.

"Urrgh," he said. "Twinky. Twinky!"

The elf popped into his room and squeaked sorrowfully when she saw him.

"Oh, Master Harry! Shall Twinky get Master Sirius?" she squeaked, obviously terrified upon seeing his pale face and the cold sweat on his brow.

"Yes, please," panted Harry. "And Remus."

"Yes, Master."

Twinky vanished, and not two minutes later Sirius barged in, Remus in tow. He looked frantic and as if he hadn't slept very well. His hair stuck out in all directions and he had sleep wrinkles in his face. Remus' face looked rather ashen, and his hair was also ruffled.

"Harry! You're awake!" cried Sirius and stormed to his godson.

Remus only barely managed to keep him from shaking Harry and provoking a mess on the carpet. It was also Remus who recognised what Harry had done.

"Oh no, you didn't take all these memories in at once, did you?!" he shrieked. "HARRY!"

"I – uh – couldn't remember _anything_," said Harry defensively. "_Of course_ I wanted them back!"

"Oh my," said Remus anxiously. "We need to get Dumbledore … Sirius, could you call him, please?"

"Yes, of course," said Sirius and jumped up as if being bitten at the ankle.

Harry noticed that doing something was always a better solution for Sirius than sitting and thinking. He wasn't stupid, just impatient and had way too much energy at his disposal. Remus apparently knew that, too. When Sirius was gone Remus sat next to Harry on the bed and stroked his back comfortingly.

"Okay. You did something very stupid but we have been just as stupid and didn't set you a note on the nightstand." Remus raked a hand through his greying hair and sighed. "Siri and I watched your Occlumency lesson with Snape last night. You two went at it like bulldogs, really. That's why you have these nice welts on your arms. I believe you have had such lesions before?"

Harry tried to think of it but his head started to hurt once he wanted to think farther than the next minute ahead or back. Thus he just grunted which Remus took as confirmation.

"Anyway, somehow you managed a breakthrough near the end, and you were so absorbed into Snape's mind that we had to rip you bodily away from him. You both were in quite a bit of pain. So we got the glorious idea to put all your memories in a Pensieve to let you sleep it off undisturbed."

Remus looked out of the large window, into the wintry sky. Snow was falling down in small flakes. This was not a calming flow of snow but an erratic half-storm. The sky emptied its contents finally and let everything out at once to make this Christmas as white as possible.

"Unfortunately we forgot to write you a note and warn you. It's our fault. I'm sorry."

"'s okay," mumbled Harry. "I just hope Dumbledore can fix this. It feels like I have Snape in my head, and it's freaking me out."

"Snape is out like a light," said Remus guiltily. "You were in so deep that he just sort of fainted and took you with him.

"Shit," said Harry and buried his face in his hands. "I'm always doing the worst things to him."

"He wouldn't teach you if he hadn't seen at least an ounce of talent. He knew quite well what he was getting into. Contrary to popular belief Albus Dumbledore doesn't have the power to make Snape bend to his will like a willow." Remus smiled. "But Snape himself is always willing to subject himself to any kind of challenge, and you should know now that you are a great challenge to him."

"Did I hurt his hands?" Harry asked worriedly. "I did that a few weeks ago … it was horrible."

"Sssh, calm down. You're confusing things. Dumbledore will help you, Harry," said Remus soothingly.

"I'm confusing things?" roared Harry. "Don't give me that! I found it bad when it happened and I'm finding it even worse now! _I'm not confusing things!_"

"You're riling yourself up, Harry–," said Remus, trying to sound reasonable.

But Harry didn't listen. He stood up and started pacing, despite the queasiness of his stomach and his pounding headache.

"I didn't even do magic last night," he said frantically, not looking at Remus but rather out of the window and then at the slightly opened door. "I can't believe it. This is so wrong I can't even begin to describe–"

"Harry," said Remus. "Come back and sit down. You're making me ill with all your pacing."

"-and I wonder if Dumbledore will even be able to give me my head back," continued Harry, completely ignoring Remus' pleading. "I'm so full of Snape I could give you a lesson in Potions!"

"Harry–," Remus tried again.

Just then the door opened and Sirius re-entered. He looked immensely relieved and rushed immediately to Harry. His place in the door was taken by Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts, the best (and most likely only) wizarding school in Britain. Dumbledore usually exuded power and confidence. His silver beard and the twinkling blue eyes were his trademark sign.

But right now Dumbledore didn't look like the idol of hundreds or thousands of wizards and witches. Right now Albus Dumbledore looked pale, worried and even a little bit helpless.

"Good morning, Remus," said Dumbledore in his aged voice. "I do believe this is the problem Sirius mentioned?" He gestured at Harry, then at the Pensieve.

"Yes, Albus," replied Remus quietly.

"Well, then, what do you think about preparing a cup of tea?"

Remus and Sirius got the obvious hint and quietly left the room, closing the door behind them. Dumbledore looked at Harry and Harry looked at Dumbledore.

"Oh, my dear boy," sighed Dumbledore. "You're always having problems I'm not really able to solve with an easy flick of my wand."

"What do you have to do to bring me back to normal?" asked Harry in a clipped tone. "My head is killing me."

"Oh, it will take some time," replied Dumbledore gravely. "And I also need to ask you one question. Do you plan to use the acquired information in any way?"

Harry's green eyes first blazed and then cooled over, as if an Ice Fairy had blown over them.

"I don't know what you expect me to say or what you want me to say but I have no desire to confront Snape with the knowledge I gained. And neither do I plan to use it against him," said Harry clearly. His eyes rested unwaveringly on Dumbledore.

The old man shuddered. "Good, Harry, very good. Now come and sit down with me. You need to extract every single foreign memory from your head and put it back into the Pensieve. Then we can delete it."

"All right," said Harry.

"May I help you?" Dumbledore asked. "You put the foreign memories in the Pensieve and I'll delete them?"

"That's fine with me."

Dumbledore and Harry walked to the couch that stood in front of Harry's fireplace. With a wave of his old, gnarled hand Dumbledore summoned the Pensieve from Harry's nightstand and Harry's wand. Impatiently Harry started the procedure of grasping a certain memory, extracting it with his wand and placing it into the Pensieve carefully. Dumbledore had been right. It would take quite a bit of their day. And seeing that the Weasleys and Hermione were supposed to arrive sometime during the day they had not that much time to spare.

It took Harry even longer than expected to even get rid of one third of the bothersome, foreign memories. They seemed to multiply every time he deleted one memory. It almost seemed as if one deleted memory activated five new. Harry was at a loss, and Dumbledore could do nothing else than shrug sadly and say that it was enough for the day.

At least Harry didn't have that pounding headache anymore. The Weasleys were due to arrive at any minute now and he had yet to shower and dress properly. Dumbledore left his room with the promise to continue this as soon as possible. And he asked of Harry to get rid of Snape's memories himself in every minute he could spare.

Under the shower Harry thought about his friends and if he should tell them what had happened. Hermione would certainly understand. But what if Ron would freak out? He never quite understood what Harry was thinking, although he tried to. And he didn't really want to ruin this Christmas because of some stupid Pensieve accident.

Sighing, Harry washed his hair and rinsed himself off. Maybe it was better not to tell anything at all, or, if he could manage it, to tell only Hermione. She, at least, could keep a secret. He turned the water off and stepped out of the shower stall. Only then he heard Twinky calling his name.

"Master Harry! The Weasleys are here. What does Master Harry wish to wear?"

Harry wondered briefly about Twinky's rather good English before he answered. "My black 'Flash' shirt and the blue jeans from 'Caine'. Okay?"

"Yes, Master Harry!"

Harry heard her rummaging around a bit. But when he came out of the bathroom she was already gone. Underwear, socks, the requested shirt and his favourite new jeans lay on his bed. Harry dried himself with the towel that had previously hung around his hips and then dressed quickly. The sleeves of his shirt were tight enough to carry his wand in the right sleeve. The jeans rode low enough on his hips to look stylish but not too low to reveal his underpants in their entirety.

In the corridor he met Remus. His grave expression let some alarm bells ring.

"Is Snape lying in one of the rooms?" Harry asked concernedly.

"Yes," said Remus. "And he's still sleeping. I suppose you know now what happened yesterday night. My guess would be that you leeched him empty in a way."

"I'm sorry," said Harry quietly. "It was just … He attacked me so hard and I just defended myself."

"I know that, Harry. You didn't even have your wand. Snape wanted to push you. He just pushed too far this time." Remus' eyes strayed to the door of the room he just had left.

"I want to see him," said Harry firmly.

"But the Weasleys have just arrived," protested Remus. "They'll get suspicious if you come too late to greet them."

"I don't care," replied Harry stubbornly. "Let me see him."

Remus just sighed and went back to the room, opening the door for Harry. "He's just sleeping, really. Madam Pomfrey was here not one hour ago and said everything will be okay. He just needs some rest."

Harry marched straight to the bed Snape was lying in. He looked like he was dead. His skin was white, and the dark hair and eyebrows contrasted with his unhealthy pallor even more. Harry noticed that Snape's robe hung over a chair and his shirt and trousers lay neatly folded on the seat. Twinky must have wrestled him into pyjamas but Harry couldn't tell; Remus had covered Snape up to the collar with the blanket.

Harry sat down on the chair Remus had obviously used when he had looked after Snape.

"I really feel awful now," said Harry quietly. "I even ruined Christmas for him." He felt Remus' hands on his shoulders in silent support, but he felt only worse instead of better.

"Severus hasn't got any family he could celebrate Christmas with," said Remus softly. "True, he didn't want to be here but Albus is seeing to it that he does not get lonely usually."

"Well, he won't have time to feel lonely," said Harry curtly. "He'll stay here until he's recovered. And not even Sirius can talk me out of this." He stood up and turned around. "I would rather have him snarking at us than throw him out. I'm not that heartless. Not even when it's Snape."

Remus grinned. "I'm not sure he'll appreciate your kind gesture."

"He had better, or I'll send Fred and George in personally, together with Hermione and Dumbledore." Harry walked toward the door and opened it. "I'm going to greet the lot now. Are you coming?"

"In a minute, Harry," said Remus, still smiling.

Harry nodded and left. He could already hear the noise from the entrance hall. Mrs Black was shrieking and yelling – somebody must have pulled the sound dampening veil off her frame. Molly Weasley was audibly arguing with Sirius regarding why Harry wasn't down yet. Harry could also hear some other voices he didn't recognise immediately. But when he jumped down the last few stairs he saw who was assembled in Sirius' house.

The most imposing figure in the entrance hall was, without a doubt, Bill Weasley. He was the tallest of the Weasleys and looked so cool that Harry instantly felt drawn to him. Fleur Delacour clung to his arm. She was as pretty as always, her silvery long mane shimmered in the lamp light and her milk white skin glowed softly. But her eyes glared at everybody else in unmistakeable jealousy and her face looked cold and condescending.

Next to her stood Charlie. He was smaller than Bill and a bit stockier, like the twins. He wore fashionable leather trousers and boots, dragon hide if Harry guessed correctly, and in contrast a simple, white shirt. Around his neck hung a dragon talon on a leather band. Harry thought that both of the oldest Weasley children would make a great Indiana Jones.

Molly and Arthur Weasley were still arguing with Sirius who stood out like a rock with his black hair and black clothes in a sea of red hair and colourful garments.

Fred and George were currently conversing in their most courteous voices with the enraged Mrs Black who was getting louder by the second. She was clearly exasperated with the twin's mock-polite behaviour.

Ginny and Ron stood next to Sirius and grinned like loons. Next to them Hermione was looking watchfully around, taking in every change in the house she could find. And it was she who saw Harry first.

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**End of chapter 6**

57


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** _Nothing but most parts of the plot (save some references) are mine. The glorious rest belongs to JKR and her evil henchmen *hrhrhr*_

**Thanks:**_ As usual my thanks go to my wonderful beta Licelli. I also thank the readers who put the story on their alert and favourite lists and gave me such wonderful reviews. It's good to hear from you! :-)  
_

And now, please enjoy!

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**Chapter 7  
**

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"Harry!" she shrieked. Every conversation died down in a heartbeat.

"Uh, hi guys," said Harry, feeling rather uncomfortable under their scrutinising stares.

Hermione broke the tension. She flew into his arms and nearly squeezed the life out of him. Ginny, Ron, Fred and George jumped him, too. When he had sufficiently greeted his dearest friends, Charlie and Bill shook his hand and just grinned about their younger siblings' antics. Before they could exchange any words, however, Molly Weasley stormed up to him and hugged him hard. Mr Weasley extracted Harry from the stranglehold of his wife after a little while and shook Harry's hand himself.

"We're so glad you're okay, Harry," said Mrs Weasley. "We were so unhappy that we couldn't take you in this summer, really, and then Lucius Malfoy escaped from Azkaban; not that it did him any harm without the Dementors guarding the prison …"

"Ginny told us that the git was visiting Hogwarts quite often during the last months," said Mr Weasley hatefully. "As if it's not enough that he and his people managed to throw Dumbledore out of the Ministry completely."

"That was Umbridge, Arthur, and you know it," came the gruff reply from Moody. He and Tonks descended the stairs. Moody's klonking, caused by his wooden leg, echoed through the entrance hall.

"Lucius Malfoy had nothing to do with it," said Tonks. Today her hair was a dark red, apparently to imbuepeoplewith the Christmas spirit. She was tall and looked about twenty five. Her curly mane cascaded down her back. Her dress was tight but not too revealing and shimmered in a soft pearl white. "As much as I hate to say it, but he's innocent this time. Umbridge did it all on her own."

"We even managed to read the last few letters she received. There was no note from Malfoy," added Moody gruffly. "But that might only mean that Umbridge is working for Voldemort herself."

"Or she's just incredibly stupid," said Harry coolly.

The others murmured in agreement.

Sirius clapped his hands cheerfully. "Well, what about a cup of tea? You lot look terribly cold!"

The promise of hot chocolate, tea and cookies let the angry discussion quickly die down. Fred and George bowed to Mrs Black and shut her up with the veil. Everybody else agreed loudly after Sirius promised them fire whiskey and liqueur and Sirius bounced into the Living Room to help Twinky set the table for so many people. Harry knew he was happy; these people were his friends and there would be no business talk tonight. At least not as urgently as usual. Tomorrow was Boxing Day, after all.

When everybody was seated the Living Room looked warm, and the comfortable feeling Harry usually had in here was amplified even more. Harry practically bathed in the magic and the good atmosphere. Hermione's surprised expression told him that she felt it, too. The others didn't seem too surprised about it but then again they all had known everything about the wizarding world from the start, unlike Harry and Hermione.

Twinky poured tea and coffee and fulfilled every wish of her master's guests. Fred and George ordered funny sweets and Ginny and Ron engaged in a sugar pole fight.

Bill and Charlie, who mysteriously sat on each of Harry's sides, asked him thousands of questions. Harry had a feeling that Bill desperately wanted to get away from Fleur, who was watching like a hawk over his every move. But he refrained from asking in her presence. Bill might feel trapped and say nothing at all, confirming Fleur's expectations, or he could say out loud that he was annoyed and start a huge row. And Harry didn't want that on Christmas.

"How did you like it in London, Bill?" Harry asked curiously. "I heard you were working in the headquarters of Gringott's."

"Oh, it's nice for someone as frigid as Percy," said Bill in his rough tenor. "That's why I quit after six months and went back to Egypt." He leaned closer. "I need my desert and my people around me."

"Yeah, and the Goblins wanted him back there anyway. No one is as talented or skilled a Curse Breaker as Bill," said Charlie cheerfully. "Me and Bill are just outdoor boys, you know."

Harry laughed but noticed the angry look Fleur gave Bill. "And how is working with dragons?" he asked Charlie.

"Fine as always. I got a nice new brand mark from one of the dragons a few months ago. It looks like a lizard in attack position." Charlie waggled his eyebrows. "Do you want to see it?"

"Yes, of course," said Harry.

Ron and Ginny rolled their eyes.

"Honestly, if Charlie weren't already committed to Roman he'd jump Harry this very second," said Fred.

George laughed. "And feel good while going at it."

Harry blushed and the Weasley boys laughed heartily. Bill leaned closer and winked at Harry.

"But he does have good taste, I have to say," he murmured softly.

Harry coughed and looked at the suddenly very interesting tablecloth. He didn't know how to handle such blatant compliments. And this was coming from a man who was cool and bloody gorgeous himself. He couldn't help blushing and shivering in delight. Not that he really believed what Bill said, but it still felt good somehow. Maybe it was because the Weasleys would never lie to him, unless absolutely necessary. This playful, effortless bantering did wonders for his self-esteem.

"And, 'Arry, 'ow are your studies going?" Fleur asked. She stroked a strand of her long hair.

"Oh, quite well, thank you," replied Harry. He was a bit surprised that she wanted to join the conversation now.

Fleur looked at him with her mercury eyes; it was almost hypnotising. Then she picked her cup up with well-manicured fingers and sipped her coffee.

"I 'eard you were training a special group of students," she said casually. "And that you've become quite good."

"Well, training has that effect," said Harry carefully. Her inquisitive behaviour made him cautious. He couldn't help but feel repelled byher. Ron on the other hand was almost drooling into his teacup. Hermione elbowed him sharply.

Fleur's delicate nostrils flared a bit. "Indeed," she said slowly. "Oh … indeed." The smile on her full lips did nothing to calm Harry down.

Fortunately for Harry she didn't ask anything else. Hermione frowned at her. Ginny kicked Ron in the shin because he started staring again. Bill and Charlie just looked at each other, then at Harry. Somewhere in the back of his mind Harry wondered if Bill and Charlie shared the same understanding Fred and George seemed to have for and of each other. It would explain all the hilarious stories Ron had told Harry over the years.

"Are you showing me your room later, Harry?" Bill asked casually. "I heard through three bush drums that you have quite a DVD collection."

"Uhm, okay," said Harry. "Actually I just bought them. I don't know if they're any good, yet."

Bill smirked. "We got ourselves bitten with that bug, too. And Jerold wasn't helping. Damn little mutt, that." His blue eyes twinkled merrily. On Harry's other side Charlie was chuckling heartily.

"Ah, good old Jerold … well, I like those Muggle things, too," said Charlie warmly. "Muggles come up with astounding stories. A lot of movies are crap, but _The Lord of the Ring_ was simply fantastic."

"You two could at least pretend to be subtle," said Ron across the table and rolled his eyes.

Fred and George snickered. It was apparently common knowledge to the family that at least two members weren't completely straight. Harry blushed again, this time even harder than the last. What was it about Bill and Charlie that made him behave like this? But the two brothers in question coolly ignored Fred's and George's taunting. Mrs Weasley snorted at their antics and Ginny just watched everything with gleeful curiosity. Hermione smirked at Harry.

After tea Harry, Bill and Charlie climbed up the stairs and went into his room. Both were suitably impressed with the new decoration and the job Sirius had done on the house.

"I like it here," said Bill and let himself fall backwards on Harry's bed. "It's comfy." His lazy grin made Harry blush once more.

Charlie in the meanwhile inspected Harry's DVD collection. "Cool, you've got _Snatch_. Maybe we can see it tonight?"

"Alright," said Harry quickly, fighting with the redness in his cheeks. It was so embarrassing. "We have a DVD player downstairs … just in case Siri, Remus and your parents want to watch, too."

Bill chuckled. "Why not gather everybody into your room for a good start to a new home? I imagine it's very … cosy."

Charlie tutted quietly. "Your girl is downstairs," he said. "Watch your tongue as long as she's around."

"Are you going to break up?" Harry blurted out. He was dying to know but hadn't dared to ask at the table downstairs.

"She's quite beautiful," said Bill slowly, "But she's annoying in her jealousy."

"She's part Veela," said Harry. "Did she tell you about that?"

"It's quite obvious," said Bill and laughed. "But I know I'm not her partner, mate or chosen one if you're worrying about that."

Charlie, who was now going through Harry's CDs looked up. "She's quite the slut if you ask me. During the tournament two years ago she was making out with Davies and Corner at the same time." He snorted in disgust. "It's hard to believe that she'll be faithful to a person until she's found her mate, although they're supposed to be head over heels once they find them."

"How do you know that you're not the one?" asked Harry, curiosity nagging on him.

"Oh, there're a lot of reasons," replied Bill and shrugged. "First of all, I don't feel any interest in her at all. Never really have, for that matter. If I was the one she'd do everything to try and seduce me. And believe me, she's far from it."

"Then there's the obvious gap in intelligence," smirked Charlie. "Fleur is attractive, but not at all what Bill is looking for in a woman. They couldn't have a good conversation if their lives depended on it."

"Then she's clinging," said Bill. "And I hate it when women do that. Our personalities don't match in any way."

"The same goes for your men," reminded him Charlie helpfully.

"So you're, uh, a player?" said Harry insecurely.

Bill laughed quietly. "Well, it certainly looks like that, doesn't it?" He looked at Harry with his blue eyes. "But I don't think I'm a player. I'm just looking for the right person a bit more actively than others."

Harry cleared his throat which was tight with embarrassment and turned away to hide his blush. "Being found can be nice, too," he said.

"Certainly, if you're the type for that," agreed Bill. "I think people will come soon enough to find you, Harry."

Feeling caught, Harry stilled his fidgety movements. He hadn't planned to direct this topic at himself! The Cho-disaster was still glaring in his mind and his pride was still somewhat hurt. He just prayed that Bill and Charlie wouldn't start on that, too.

"Oh, now stop scaring the poor lad," interjected Charlie humorously and saved him. "All that talk about commitment – it's not like you, anyway."

"You're so right. But being close to Moony and Paddy might give Fleur ideas," grumbled Bill. "I almost hoped that someone would say something …"

"It would have led to a huge row," said Charlie reasonably. "And you didn't want to ruin Christmas for the others. Now stick to it. You can always ditch her after Boxing Day. Mom will be glad."

"I hope so," said Bill darkly. "I just don't understand how she can be so annoyingly clingy when she was going at three guys at the same time just one year ago!" He huffed and Charlie laughed.

Harry found that Bill and Charlie were really more alike to the twins than he had seen so far. Their trust in each other was almost frightening. On the other hand Ginny and Ron were bonded quite tightly themselves. Maybe it was a family thing, with the only exception of Percy Weasley who was being a right git but still loved very dearly by his parents and (although they vehemently denied it) his siblings.

"Why does your mom … you know?" Harry asked quietly.

"She hates Fleur," said Charlie and shrugged. "You're a fan of the band _HIM_?"

"I don't know," said Harry truthfully. "Haven't heard it yet."

"As to why mom hates Fleur … Well, she obviously finds it disgusting that all the men are panting after her–," said Bill.

"-like Ron, for example," Charlie finished. "That's the thing with Veelas and halflings. They attract people. He shrugged and took a Travis CD from the shelf.

"Anyway, she's getting on my nerves," said Bill. He absently played with Harry's bedspread and looked out of the window. "It would do her some good to get kicked out."

"When did you two get together, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Oh, shortly after the summer last year," replied Bill. He played now with his ponytail and looked lazily at Harry. "But I went back to Egypt fairly quickly – without her."

"Infidelity ensued," laughed Charlie.

Harry didn't find it all that funny. "So you betrayed her instead of ending it," he stated.

"She knew I wanted to get out," said Bill. "But she wanted me to stay. I guess it's her own kind of logic. It's either her who's ending it or no one. I even told her that I didn't want this relationship to continue. It was her who agreed to my conditions."

"Twisted," said Harry.

"That it is," said Charlie. He switched the radio on. Music blared through the room.

"And how do you think you'll get her off your back this time?" Harry watched Bill intently. He didn't really know what to think about him right now.

"I thought I could make her jealous …," replied Bill idly. "Thought I could ask Moony or Sirius to help me or even Jerold. But the problem is that Fleur knows them all."

Harry sighed. "I just don't get why you can't tell her off."

Bill groaned. "Then you've no idea about relationships, Harry. Merlin bless you."

"My sensible brother is just too nice to do that," said Charlie. "Honestly. Her tell-tale stories about her relationship with you won't annoy you forever, Bill."

"So it's about your reputation?" Harry asked incredulously. "I mean, nobody in Egypt cares about that!"

Bill sat up and beckoned Harry closer. When he was close enough he swiftly grabbed him and pulled him on the bed. "You're too young to deal with crap like this," he said. "But … maybe … would _you_ help me, Harry? With your help I could actually convince her …"

"I don't know," said Harry slowly. "What would I have to do?"

"Well, you would just have to pretend to like me," explained Bill. "She knows you're friends with Ron and Ginny."

Harry wondered if that was such a good idea. "Yeah, but she'll know that I'm not good at … this," he said helplessly and motioned with his hand.

"ThenI should be the one to make the first advance, right?" said Bill cheerfully and winked at Harry. "Besides, you're handsome enough." He clapped Harry heartily on the back. "No offence, man."

"As long as you're not expecting anything from me," said Harry weakly.

"Of course not. You're like family to me," said Bill, sounding too scandalised to really mean it. "Like a fetching cousin …"

Charlie laughed shamelessly. "As if _that_ would keep you off!"

"I guess it's okay, then," said Harry. "But I better tell Ron and Hermione about it."

"Leave Ron out of it," warned Charlie. "Fleur has her ways to extract information. Trust me."

"Oh, right." Harry felt really stupid for not realising that sooner. Veelas could bewitch men and the occasional woman with their charm – _of course_ she had a way to extract information.

Bill cuddled Harry and sighed in relief. "You have no idea how much that'll help me."

"And you have no idea what I'm sacrificing for you," said Harry mock-sorrowfully. "Now the Order will think I'm crazy about you."

"Would that be a bad thing?" Bill teased. "After all, I'm not _that_ ugly."

"No, you're not," said Harry and chuckled. "Just not really interested. Ron will flail me, Fleur will annoy me and Hermione will snoop around shamelessly."

"How nice of you not to mention mum's tantrums and dad's shocked disappointment," quipped Charlie. "But at least Bill owes you now. That might come in handy some day."

Harry smirked. "I'm sure I will need it. And I will hold you to that."

Charlie took _Snatch_ and _The_ _Frighteners_ from Harry's shelf. "These two are really good. Your room or the Living Room, Harry?"

"The Living Room," replied Harry and chuckled. "I don't want any bloodshed in the first night with you lot in my room."

Bill laughed and ruffled his hair. "Let's go then. They'll wonder where we are."

Charlie pocketed the DVDs and opened the door. Bill and Harry passed him by and went down the stairs first. Ginny and Hermione were indeed on their way up to get them. They met in the middle and marched back together. Ginny and Hermione were talking about how much Mrs Weasley seemed to dislike Fleur. Moody apparently regarded her as a useful member of the Order but not as pleasant company. Tonks didn't care for her and Fred and George didn't seem too terribly interested in her either. Harry had the suspicion that things were still progressing with Katie and Angelina for them.

"When do we get to see your room, Harry?" Hermione asked curiously. "Twinky took all our bags away, but Sirius told us that you'd give us the tour."

"Later," said Harry and grinned. "Charlie picked some movies, and I'm getting hungry again."

Hermione rolled her eyes but nodded in agreement. "I thought so. What was Dumbledore doing here, by the way? Is he celebrating with us?"

"I honestly don't know," said Harry untruthfully. "I guess he will. Let's ask Sirius later."

They arrived in the Living Room and surveyed the sitting people. Tonks sat next to Moody and was laughing at something he told her about an accident Mundungus Fletcher had had with a nasty, self-boiling cauldron. Fleur sat with Ron, Fred and George but wasn't talking with them. Mr and Mrs Weasley were talking to Sirius and Remus. Then the doorbell rang and Harry turned on his heel and went to open it. Bill and Charlie stood like bodyguards behind him, in case it was someone unexpected and dangerous.

"Hello!" chirped Arabella Figg in their faces as soon as the door opened. "I know I'm late, sorry dears!"

Harry was speechless for a second and just stared at her. Arabella Figg stepped closer, cracking a stick. Harry could feel the magic seeping though the air – it obviously had been charmed for some purpose. And really, her disguise vanished and she was the colourless, middle-aged woman Harry remembered from the time of his trial last year. Behind her Mundungus Fletcher stepped through the door. He looked as dirty and shabby as always. Harry didn't get how he could have mistaken Hestia Jones in disguise for him. She had carried her dirty clothes a whole lot differently than him!

"Harry, dear, it is so good to see you again," said Mrs Figg earnestly. "Your relatives–"

Harry, Bill and Charlie all snorted in disgust.

"-are not behaving very well. The men, that is," said Arabella, ignoring their snorting. "I keep an eye on them. Your aunt seems pretty much fed up with them."

She took off her cloak and hung it over the rack. Fletcher followed her example, just not as elegantly as her. When they were done Remus and Sirius were there to greet them as well. Harry, Bill and Charlie discreetly fled.

"I like Dung, honestly," murmured Bill in Harry's ear, "But the stench of his clothes is getting worse every time I get to see him."

Harry, who felt a delightful shiver, nodded in agreement.

They joined the others in the Living Room and occupied the sofas and armchairs. Bill made use of the situation and sat next to Harry. Fleur, who was still sitting with Ron, Fred and George, scowled at him. A few minutes later Mrs Figg, Mundungus Fletcher, Sirius and Remus came in.

Charlie waved the DVD. "We want to watch this, Sirius. Okay?"

Sirius just shrugged. "Sure, if you know how to handle these … things." He pointed at the television and the DVD player.

Harry took the DVD from Charlie; it was _Snatch_. He switched the telly on and activated the DVD player. In a minute the movie was running and Harry settled back between Bill and Charlie.

"Snacks would be nice," he said to no one in particular.

Twinky popped into the room and delivered bowls with roasted peanuts, chips and chocolate flakes. Harry smiled broadly at her for the wonderful service and she made a curtsey, pleased that she had pleased the masters. The twins immediately went for it. Ginny and Hermione secured themselves a bowl of chocolate while Harry took the chips bowl. Sirius, Remus and Arabella decided to ask Twinky for some sandwiches. Mundungus just grunted and took a bowl with peanuts. Mr Weasley was quietly talking to him and Mrs Weasley looked at him reproachfully. Tonks happily munched chips. Moody refused to touch the snacks, claiming that he'd need his stomach for a few more years.

_Snatch_ proved to be entertainment for everybody. Even full wizards with no clue about Muggles and their lifestyle enjoyed the run for diamonds, money and happiness. And sure enough the girls were swooning over Brad Pitt. Harry found the man handsome, too, but was too mortified to say so. Coming to terms with his weird sexuality, that seemed to switch between boys and girls like crazy, was one thing, but telling that in front of others quite another. He thought that he'd never be ready to _come out of the closet_ as they put it. Not to Ron and the other Weasleys, anyway. Besides, he still wasn't sure what he liked in a person and was even less sure if that had anything to do with their gender at all.

Throughout the movie Fleur snorted disdainfully and kept eying Harry and Bill. Soon the others were giving them all puzzled looks - Bill snuggled closer to Harry and put a possessive arm over the back of the sofa, encircling him loosely.

The twins crowed in excitement about the milk-scene. Mrs Weasley clucked because of the violence, but Mr Weasley was clearly enjoying the rough humour of the movie. Ron goggled at the cars and the boxing fights, forgetting everything else in the room, even Fleur, who was stretching out seductively. Sirius and Remus were snuggling up comfortably, wrapped up in each other.

Dinnertime was rapidly nearing when Remus suddenly jumped up. He claimed to have to look after Buckbeak, but Harry knew that he was really looking for Snape. Remus obviously had set up some wards around the room Snape was occupying to be alarmed when he woke up.

Sirius didn't seem to be too concerned, so the others took no special notice of his rather rash leaving_._ And to make it all even less noticeable, Dumbledore entered the Living Room through the biggest of the three fireplaces with a loud and cheerful WHOOSH.

The people were instantly up and about to greet him and shower him with questions.

Dumbledore laughed at the twins' curiosity and answered patiently Sirius' questions about the latest news. As far as Harry could hear nothing special had happened; Voldemort seemed to keep a low profile at the moment.

He strained to catch something about the Malfoys or perhaps Nott, but Dumbledore didn't say anything about them. And soon enough the conversation turned to more pleasant topics, such as Harry's time at Grimmauld Place and how he liked it so far.

His next target was Fleur who glared outright at Bill and entertained Fred and George with it. Ron, albeit talking to Hermione, was paying rapt attention to each of the Veela's movements. He seemed to be the only male in the room, actually, that reacted to her attraction.

Harry nudged Bill. "Why does only Ron look at her like that?" he asked quietly. He didn't mean only the Weasleys but also himself.

"That's easy, Harry," replied Bill. "Mom and dad are deeply in love with each other. Charlie has his boyfriend and I daresay it's something very serious, Fred and George are somehow fumbling around with Angelina and Katie and I am just not interested in commitments. That saves me from her, I guess."

"And why am I not interested in her?" Harry asked, frowning slightly at Bill's explanation. It seemed Fleur's power of attraction apparently worked only on persons who were not seriously involved. But why not on him?

"I don't know, Harry," said Bill gently. "Maybe you're more gay than you thought."

Harry snorted in his tea in hot embarrassment and looked at Bill accusingly. "I like girls just fine," he declared indignantly. "But certain guys are, well, hot."

"She's pretty," said Bill thoughtfully. "Maybe she's just not your type."

Harry thought of Lucius Malfoy and his long, white blond hair and the pale eyes and blushed uncomfortably. No, Fleur's type was nice enough, really. Her moon pale skin and the long, naturally bleached hair was just fine. But he didn't feel anything remotely romantic for her. Back in fourth year he did, a tiny bit, but no longer. It was rather scary that a Malfoy – one of his archenemies – interested him more than the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

Bill had noticed his blush and his discomfort and wanted to say something. But fortunately Remus came back in just that moment and saved Harry. He, however, had Snape in tow.

Harry swallowed.

The man looked even paler than usual, and his black, longish hair looked somewhat different. It took him a few moments until he realised that Snape must have had a shower and thus washed his hair. And Snape looked cold, as if he was freezing. Remus and Snape gave no sign that the latter had spent the night in here, and Harry tried his best to look surprised.

Every conversation died down when the two entered. Dumbledore stepped toward Snape and greeted him genially, asking if he was staying for Christmas. Instead of looking at Dumbledore Snape glared at Harry while he answered in the affirmative.

Ron gasped; it sounded ridiculous in the large room. Fleur just looked at Snape with hooded lids, and Harry wondered if she was somehow turning her attraction on. If so, Snape didn't seem to sense it, because he scowled at the assembled crowd, piercing them all with a menacing look.

Then all eyes turned to Sirius. Everybody expected him to explode, obviously, because Snape was staying in his house for Christmas, but Sirius just nodded shortly in acknowledgement and offered Snape a seat.

"Oh, it is just wonderful to see the old grouch again," said Bill not too quietly. "Too bad he's not interested." He winked at Harry. "His voice gives me the chills. Right, Charlie?"

Charlie laughed good-naturedly. Snape's pale cheeks tinged with a faint blush. He quickly averted his eyes from Harry and Bill grunted in satisfaction.

Admiringly Harry discovered that even the most casual gestures of Bill screamed his – faked – interest for Harry. He had to admit it seemed rather real, even to him, and he knew about it! But in no way was he giving Bill an easy time. He'd have to woo him adequately if he wanted to get rid of Fleur. And Harry intended to play hard to get at all costs.

Remus shooed Snape over to Moody and Tonks. Both turned their heartfelt attention to him, and Snape relaxed. Hermione, who had hidden her small form behind Mrs Weasley peeked around uncertainly. She was still apprehensive because of the huge row she and Snape had had; it was obvious. But she was also curious and even a little bit excited that Snape would be here over the holidays.

Harry rolled his eyes. Trust Hermione to be thrilled to be able to pester Snape about potions even over the Christmas holidays. The twins looked ready to do some mischief. But Harry thought he would guard Snape until he was better. He looked still too pale for his liking, even if the man _did_ bear a striking resemblance to a vampire, who were, as far as Harry knew, always pale. He shot Fred and George a warning glance and shook his head slightly. Disappointed the two pranksters retreated to Mr Weasley.

Dumbledore zoomed through the room like an overgrown fly and tried to spread some last Christmas cheer. Unfortunately the assembled adults and teenagers didn't get along too well:

Most of them didn't really like Snape toomuch_._ Fleur was angry with Bill. Bill was trying to get away from Fleur. Mrs Weasley disliked Fleur for reasons mostly unknown. Ginny was feeling morose because Dean couldn't visit her over the holidays. Ron was panting after Fleur. Tonks and Moody isolated themselves a bit. Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher just sat there, enjoying the tense atmosphere of the group. Fred and George pouted because Harry had spoiled their fun with Snape. Harry felt bad about causing Snape so much discomfort but was also happy to have the people he cared for most with him. Hermione was annoyed about Ron's obvious attraction to Fleur and she felt uncomfortable with Snape. Mr Weasley and Charlie seemed to feel well. They just drank some whiskey and watched the others. The missing Percy didn't seem to be a concern of them right now. It was probably for the best, Harry thought.

Harry found it funny to have a living room full with people who were so different and unique in their own rights. He was astounded how calm Sirius was tonight. He neither argued with Snape nor with Remus because of Snape. On the other hand Harry had made his point quite clear, and even if he still didn't like Snape he wasn't so cruel to kick him out on Christmas Eve. Secretly he thought that Snape needed some festive company like every other normal human being, too. He didn't know what the man usually did on Christmas but this year would be different.

Slowly the group settled down again and Harry let the movie continue. There were only some minutes left, anyway. Snape watched it without displaying any emotions. He and Moody wore remarkably alike expressions of disinterest while Tonks laughed together with Ron, Ginny and the twins about Brad Pitt and his supreme last fight.

Throughout the last of the movie Bill's strong scent danced in Harry's nose. He liked it, but it was still somewhat disconcerting. He decided that all the ruckus around his person and Bill's dilemma with Fleur was already taking their toll on him. And Bill's hand, which almost unnoticeably played with some locks of his hair, wasn't making things easier.

At least it was funny, Harry thought, how much resentment Snape could show in one, single glare.

Remus had a firm hand as host. He had arranged the pre-Christmas dinner and the seating arrangements. He and Dumbledore obviously liked to seat people with others they didn't know very well. That was how Harry ended up between Fleur and Mundungus Fletcher, of all people. While Dung was friendly enough and fun to talk to, Fleur was quietly brooding and tossing her long, silvery mane over her shoulder every now and then.

Ron, who had hoped to sit next to her was squeezed between Mrs Figg and Hermione. Snape looked somewhat forbidding and very, very grouchy in between Remus and Dumbledore, as if he were a beast that needed restraint. And maybe he was, at least verbally.

Sirius was happy next to Bill and Mr Weasley while the twins and Charlie sat across from Harry. Tonks and Moody had been separated by those three young men but enjoyed themselves nonetheless, together with Mrs Weasley who sat next to Tonks.

Then Twinky served the food, and Harry noticed just how hungry he had been. Sweets never quite filled his stomach like real food did.

The meal was loud and funny. Fred and George pestered Snape with questions about some tricks for their newest inventions while Mrs. Weasley tried to intervene with much screeching on her part.

Tonks yelled over the table to tease Harry about his new, rather form-fitting clothes, and Hermione talked over three seats with Remus.

Arabella Figg bantered with Mundungus Fletcher about one thing or another, and Fleur was talking animatedly to Bill who looked incredibly bored.

Dumbledore just sat there, chuckling every now and then about the bantering and generally amusing himself at the others' expenses. The food in itself wasn't that exciting, just crackers, cheese and sandwiches; the real Christmas dinner would be served tomorrow.

After dinner Harry went to get _The Frighteners_. Jerold had told him the movie was strange, funny but also frightening at times. And he had said that the reapers looked a bit like Dementors, only with a scythe. Harry, who liked quirky humour (the movie was an Australian production, actually) was looking forward to it, and he hoped Dumbledore would bully Snape into watching, too.

When he came back his friends, family and acquaintances had settled in front of the telly. He noticed the free place next to Bill and smirked slightly.

Fleur, Harry noticed with increasing incredulity, had chosen a seat next to Snape of all people. And Snape looked positively disgruntled about that. Even Hermione frowned about her outright manoeuvre to make Bill jealous.

Harry shrugged, grabbed the remote control and settled next to Bill. It was rather crowded with nineteen people sitting and lounging on and in front of the couches that surrounded the television.

At least everybody had a good laugh about the ghosts in the movie, although Hermione and Ginny were grossed out by the psychotic pair that tried to shoot the hero and his friend. Fred and George mocked the blond guy and said he looked a lot like Draco Malfoy, just with horse teeth. Another wave of laughter rang through the room when Fred pointed out the similarities of the inspector and Snape.

Having cauliflowers growing out of his ears as a form of revenge didn't look very pretty on Fred, though, although Harry had to admit that Snape's hex was new to him. And to be honest, Snape was neither afraid of women nor did he behave _that_ strange. Not always, anyway.

The woman reminded Harry of Bellatrix Lestrange, but he chose not to say so. Dumbledore's startled look was enough to satisfy his urge to blurt it out.

After the movie the younger ones bullied Harry into showing them his room and their rooms. He didn't have any other choice, so he led the gang up to the second floor and presented his new room to them.

"Oh, it's wonderful, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione and ran over to the bookshelves. "Sirius is really generous."

Ron, Fred and George goggled at the huge windows, the expensive bed and the furniture rather than the books.

"Blimey, Harry," said Ron in awe. "The house looks simply gorgeous! I knew Sirius had money, but that much?"

"I didn't know either," replied Harry and smiled fondly. "But I guess having an old family pays off sometimes. Besides, Twinky is really working wonders. I bet Kreacher put elf magic everywhere to hinder the others from cleaning up."

Fred snorted. "I bet. I'm actually very glad that someone disembowelled the disgusting thing."

Harry, George and Ron grunted in agreement. Hermione pursed her lips but refrained from saying anything. Ginny shamelessly went through Harry's drawers and crooned over his underwear.

"Black pants, Harry? That's so sexy!" she called over to him. "I have to get Dean some of those." She fished one out that had a silver apple stitched on the waistband and squealed in delight.

Harry blushed hotly and turned away while Fred and George sniggered with glee.

They mercilessly continued to explore his room, and Harry was forever grateful that he had been living in here for only four days and not longer so he hadn't acquired some embarrassing things, yet. Only a few photos of his friends, Sirius, Remus and even Snape lay scattered around the room. He liked to have them all close, regardless of friendship or dislike. He worked with them, and there was something said about keeping your friends close and your enemies closer.

"We have to send you some copies of Play Wizard," crowed Fred when he found a small photo of Cho in one of Harry's albums. "Your room is far too boring!"

Harry thought about Dudley's subscription to a porn magazine and shuddered in disgust. "No, thank you," he said.

"Play Witch, then?" teased George. "They have some _nice_ blokes in there, I can tell you–"

"Oi, mate!" yelled Ron. "Watch your tongue or I'll have to send Katie a not so nice owl!"

"He's got the Wandering Eye," said Ginny and rolled her eyes. "But don't worry, Katie will keep him at bay."

"It's only watching, no harm done," said George in self-defence. "Besides, I like Katie's two best friends a lot more than a–"

"Enough!" cried Hermione and covered her ears. "Stop right there!"

The boys and Ginny snickered. Harry guessed that Ginny was used to the quite crude language in the Weasley household. Mrs Weasley didn't approve, that much was clear, but he still envied them for their playful, carefree bantering.

It was past eleven when they finally left Harry's room to have a look at the guest suites. Twinky helped them sort out who was staying where. While they were doing that it became apparent that Snape had gotten another room. Grinning, Harry thought that he would've done the same in Snape's position. Spending a night within teenagers' territory wasn't the wisest thing to do. Especially not with Fred and George in said teenager gang.

Hermione and Ginny shared a room, as were Fred and George. Ron, Bill and Charlie each had a room of their own, and the floor still wasn't used to its full capacity. Three suites were still empty, but Harry felt very happy right now. This house – now his house, too – was full of people he liked, and even though he disliked Snape for more reasons than was probably healthy he liked him just the same, because Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without him.

When everybody was finally ready to settle in and go to sleep it was well past midnight. Harry had given the presents for his friends and family to Twinky, knowing that the others probably had done the same.

With a sigh Harry relished in the silence of the night. Foregoing his Legilimency book tonight he just brushed his teeth, washed his face and crawled into his bed. He briefly felt bad about Snape, and he couldn't tell why, which was frustrating as hell. He decided it was the whole Christmas thing. After all, he hadn't thought of him when he had been going to Hogsmeade to buy presents.

_Oh well_, he thought. _If he's behaving himself he'll get some civility in return. Which is more than he deserves, the old bat_.

Chuckling about the wonderful, awfully relieving and refreshing brawl with Snape, he decided that it was worth a shot. He had emptied the man's head, for Merlin's sake! Surely they would find some kind of understanding and not ruin this Christmas for themselves and the others.

Sighing, Harry rolled on his back and started doing his exercises. It was easier, he imagined, because he had so many flashing memories of Snape doing exactly that in his head. It was stunning. Astounding how good Snape really was at Occlumency.

Harry wondered if he could use these memories to learn more about Occlumency himself. Dumbledore would never know since he was the only one that could extract memories from his head. The one time they had emptied his head had been because he was in agony.

It sounded like a very good plan, and maybe Snape was teaching him Occlumency properly, after all.

With a content sigh Harry finally finished his mind-clearing and snuggled deeper into the covers.

This night he could feel Voldemort scrape at his wards like a mangy dog, snarling angrily but not being able to breach through. Harry felt good in his dream. His confidence only strengthened the walls and his labyrinth which only infuriated Voldemort even more. He even managed to remember his task at learning how to identify Voldemort's moods. Tonight's mood wasn't all that hard to guess – the bastard obviously was angry. Later, when Voldemort's presence finally vanished he could even make out thirst for revenge.

After that he finally fell into a restful sleep. Dreams of _The Hands_, as he had come to call them, caressed his mind, and he felt himselfcraving them more than the first time. But just like then he could never reach them, catch them, or even look at them closely. But still, it was a nice dream, and Harry was smiling softly.

-------

The morning came far too soon for Harry. Somebody jumped on his bed and yelled happily in his ear.

"WAKE UP, HARRY! _PRESENTS_!"

"UUAAARGH!" Harry yelled and shot up in his bed, banging his head against something very hard.

"_Owww_! Harry!" yowled Ron. He fell back heavily and held his forehead.

Harry, who rubbed his own poor, abused forehead, glared at Ron who was pining over his newly bumped head himself.

"Ron!" he said angrily. "For Heaven's sake, stop _doing_ that! I could have hexed you!"

"You wouldn't," said Ron though gritted teeth. The colour of his forehead turned into an ugly shade of purple.

"Wouldn't I?" replied Harry sarcastically. "If I had my wand with me you'd be stunned by now!"

Ron wanted to say something about that, but just then Fred, George, Ginny and Hermione barged in and all jumped onto Harry's bed. The springs groaned ominously.

"Come down, Harry! Presents!" squealed Ginny. She looked pretty in her white nightgown.

"Yeah, we want to see your face when you see what we've gotten you," said Fred. He grinned from ear to ear.

"Besides, the others aren't awake, yet," grumbled Ron. He was now sporting a huge bump, but Harry knew that he didn't look any better.

"I wouldn't be too sure," mumbled Harry. "We're talking about Sirius and Remus here. Besides, you screamed loudly enough to wake the dead-"

"I was _not_ screaming!" shouted Ron in defence.

Fred and George snickered about his indignation. Hermione desperately tried to keep her face straight, but with Ginny giggling next to her it was too much of an effort. Ron glared at them all.

Right then Bill and Charlie entered Harry's room and wandered happily over to the others. Bill carried something that looked suspiciously like a sprig of mistletoe.

"Hello sweethearts," he cooed. "How are you doing on this fine morning?"

Ron scowled at Bill while Harry groaned; yet another Weasley with such an annoyingly cheerful morning person.

Charlie laughed. "Looks like somebody had a bad head start. Literally." He pressed his thumb in Harry's bump, and Harry hissed in response, slapping his hand away.

"There's no need to rub it in!" he said. "It's Ron's fault, after all."

Bill scooted closer, grinning at them all. "I thought I'd come and get the most important present as soon as possible. But first things first. That nasty bump won't do, don't you think, Harry?"

"Uhm, I think so," said Harry cautiously.

Bill pulled out his wand and performed a quick healing charm on Harry's forehead. Harry nearly sighed in relief. Charlie's rubbing had been worse than he'd thought. Ron's indignant ranting about why Bill wouldn't heal _his_ bump passed by unnoticed.

"And why did you bring that thing?" Harry asked, pointing at the sprig of mistletoe in Bill's hand.

Bill's ever present smile widened, and then he held the sprig of mistletoe right over Harry's head. "Three guesses, honey," he cooed and waved the twig slightly.

"Uh-oh," said Harry. "You don't really want to do that, right?" When Bill didn't answer he swallowed. "Right?" he asked, a little bit more forcefully now.

Bill just smirked and then pressed his lips right on Harry's. Stubble scratched over Harry's chin, and Bill's fresh scent danced in his nostrils. Bill even sighed in contentment when their tongues met for a few seconds. Fred and George cheered. Hermione's eyes became round as saucers and Ron gagged unsubtly. Ginny giggled uncontrollably. When Bill finally drew back Harry panted and clutched the covers tightly.

"Merry Christmas, Harry," said Bill cheerfully and winked. "Thanks for the nice present."

"You're welcome," squeaked Harry. He felt his cheeks burning so hotly that he thought they must be burned down to cinders by now.

Charlie laughed. "Somebody liked the wake-up call," he teased.

Harry blushed violently and stared at Bill and Charlie in shock. When he finally shook himself out of his stupor he scrambled out of his bed and ran into the bathroom.

"I'll – uhm – be downstairs soon!" he yelled before he slammed the door, locked it and leaned heavily against it.

Running his hands through his hair over and over again he tried to comprehend what had just happened. That Bill had, indeed, kissed him. And not just on the lips but also with his tongue. Uncomfortable heat burned in his cheeks and belly and he rushed over to the sink to splash cold water in his hot face.

Moaning in despair, Harry plopped down on the rug in front of the bathtub and traced his lower lip with his index finger. He was imagining things, he knew. Objectively his mouth wasn't feeling hot, but from the inside it felt as if it was burning. Why, oh why had Bill to use a sprig of mistletoe of all things to get himself a kiss? It reminded him too much of the stupid Malfoy Kiss (he had already capitalised that event; it was, after all, not an everyday occurrence that your second worst enemy kissed you right on the lips). And the worst part was that he had enjoyed it, regardless of the connection.

Sighing, he scrambled back on his feet and turned the shower on. The others waited for him, and he didn't want to worry them. There could be worse things than being kissed by the brother of your best friend. He wasn't sure about having been watched while engaged in itby his closest friends, though.

He showered quickly and very, very coldly and then put some clothes on and thundered down the stairs. His friends were already assembled around the large Christmas tree in the Living Room. He stepped closer.

The mountain of glittering presents made him gape like a first year whosaw the Great Hall or Hagrid for the first time. Sunlight streamed into the room through a window which was, for a good part, becoming covered in snow. The magical lights in the tree flickered softly, and all the metallically shimmering wrappings were gleaming. It looked wonderful and so much like home with all his friends in front of the tree.

Harry swallowed the lump in his throat away and seated himself between Fred and Ron. For a few minutes they just enjoyed the company. For once Ron didn't rush to open the gifts, and Harry was grateful for the moments of peace.

Then Sirius, Remus and Mr and Mrs Weasley entered the room, levitating mugs of hot chocolate in front of them. When everybody had a mug they sat down and made room for Moody, Tonks, Fleur and Mundungus. Mrs Figg who came in after them wore a dressing gown, but Snape, who reluctantly entered after her, was fully clothed in his black robes and looked worn out and forbidding.

Harry raised his eyebrow when he saw Dumbledore entering after Snape. It looked as if he had ordered him to attend the morning assembly. Maybe he was even pointing his wand at his back.

He snorted about his absurd thoughts. Ron's face, however, told him that he was obviously not the only one having absurd thoughts.

Sirius, who was naturally playing the part of the host, knelt down next to the mountain of gifts. His silly, happy smile made Harry happy, too.

"Good morning to you all," he chirped at them. He masterfully ignored Snape's unfriendly grunt. "I trust you slept well this night?" Without waiting for an answer he continued. "Well then, let's start with the presents. I know you're dying to know what you'll get this year."

Fred and George bounced in excitement, and even Hermione looked curious. Ginny nibbled nervously on her knuckles while Bill and Charlie watched the younger ones with amusement.

Sirius grabbed a parcel and looked at the nametag. "This is for George!" he called and threw him the parcel. George caught it and Sirius took the next one. "Mundungus!"

It was very funny to watch Sirius read the name tags and throw the presents to their respective recipients.

Ginny received presents from her family, Dean and some girls and boys from Gryffindor, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw she was friends with. Most of them were in the DA.

It was the same with all Weasleys except maybe Bill and Charlie, who got presents from friends out of their working place and current country. Egyptian women and men, Harry decided, had an interesting taste concerning clothes. Bill got a lot of suede vests and trousers. He loved them instantly, and Harry guessed that these were the clothes that suited him best. And of course he remembered the comparison to Indiana Jones, too.

Fleur got a lot of presents from friends and family in France while Mundungus and Mrs Figg received things that no one of the younger ones could quite understand. Mundungus explained Hermione that he would visit his closest friends later and celebrate then. It was the same with Arabella Figg who told them all that she was going to visit her family tomorrow for Christmas dinner. Tonks and Moody received gifts from friends, each other and the little, close family they had left.

To Harry's great surprise Snape got quite a few gifts. Some where from obvious people like Dumbledore, Moody, even Tonks and Remus, but other parcels looked extremely mysterious and Snape refused to open them in their presence. Bill whispered to Harry that Snape had contacts to other Potions Masters all over the world and was sort of friends with a lot of them.

Hermione was bombarded with a whole, small library. She got books about curses and jinxes, rare plants, magical beasts, charms and a lot more. Harry and all of the Weasley children rolled their eyes which made her blush prettily. From Harry she got a beautiful necklace among other things, and she was putting it on immediately.

Harry himself got the latest broom equipment sold in Quidditch Quality from Sirius. His Firebolt now had a magical compassthat could fix on the Snitch once he had spotted it and lead him to it, new, even sharper brakes for spectacular moves and new broom wax that made his broomstick even more aerodynamic than it already was. Ron was in a fit over it and begged Harry instantly to try it out as soon as they were back at Hogwarts.

Hermione had gotten him a very helpful book about battle magic, Fred and George supplied him with a large box of their latest jokes. Snape scowled at them but kept silent. Luna sent him another book which had been amongst her mother's possessions; this time it was one about white defence magic. Hagrid had sent his usual treats, just like Mr and Mrs Weasley.

From Bill Harry got a cool pendant on a leather band. He grinned and instantly wound the band two times around his neck before knotting it. The pendant was obviously made of gold and had the Eye of Horus and some hieroglyphs on it. Harry simply loved it. He had never been the type to wear jewellery but this looked masculine enough for him.

"That's cool, Bill. But I haven't gotten you anything," said Harry slightly reproachfully but still happily.

"Oh, I got my present already," replied Bill and winked.

Harry blushed once again and Fleur bristled in her seat on the sofa.

While Sirius was giving out presents they all started to talk to each other, thanking for gifts and just enjoying teasing each other. Remus, Mrs Weasley, Ginny and the twins were taking turns in snapping pictures of each other.

Fred and George couldn't help themselves – they just had to use one of Ron's crackers that coloured everything they touched in bright green. They managed to throw it at Dumbledore and it tangled in his beard. The whole scene was caught on film by Hermione, who snickered rather evilly about that.

Well, Dumbledore took his neon green beard with humour, but after that the twins were sporting identical donkey ears in bright pink that would only wear off in a few hours. Harry snickered and deemed it fair play.

Charlie had gotten Harry a wonderful, tight-fitting black shirt with V-neck. Written across the chest was printed in silvery writing '_Stop staring_'. Harry and Ron laughed about it, and Harry immediately put it on. The best was that it went well with Bill's pendant, though. Snape snorted when Harry unconcernedly changed in front of the whole group, but no one else seemed to care. Fleur stared at him; she was obviously unimpressed by the cocky line on the shirt. Bill, on the other hand, smirked at him and licked his lips suggestively.

Harry really hated to blush so often.

"Now I have to get Dean to wear something like that, too," said Ginny lightly. "You're mean, Harry. How can he live up to these standards?"

Harry just laughed. He refused to be intimidated by Ginny's flirting. She was happy with Dean, and since he had just been kissed by one of the hottest guys he knew there wasn't much that could shake him, anyway.

Remus and Sirius had gotten a beautiful embroidered card with theinvitation for dinner from Harry. Dumbledore had already approved and his two godfathers had agreed immediately. Remus because he loved Mediterranean food and Sirius because he could leave the house again. And true to their word they hadn't told Dumbledore that they knew from Harry that Voldemort planned an attack in June.

They would go out on Saturday evening; Hermione had promised Harry to change some money in Gringotts for him. The photo album, however, was what let Sirius and Remus coo in adoration. They showed the pictures of Harry, Hermione, Ron, themselves and his classmates around and laughed about funny shots.

Snape looked as if he was going to be sick, but when Remus started to compliment a picture of him behind his teacher's desk, he shrunk in his seat and kept silent.

Harry decided to give Colin and Dennis a nice reward for their efforts to put that album together. He was happy that Sirius and Remus liked it so much.

The Dursleys had sent him an old tie this year, which was frayed around the edges. Harry snorted about it and tossed it into the next fireplace.

He ignored Fleur's and Snape's oppressive staring and Bill's teasing about his horribly inventive Muggle relatives and unwrapped a present from Remus. It was nothing new like the other things and for a moment Harry felt quite stupid because it was something he'd never use normally. In his hand he held a small pocket mirror, similar to those the girls used all the time to check their make up and lipstick and whatnot. He opened it and stared himself in the eyes.

_Damn, but Snape is right. I _do_ look like a dork with these glasses_, thought Harry morosely. _Good thing I'm getting the new ones soon._

He quickly closed it and looked questioningly at Remus. "What does that thing do?" he asked him. "I'm sure you didn't give it to me to check upon my make up or spy around corners." Hermione's and Ron's lips quirked upwards; the memory of their second year and the Basilisk was still fresh in their minds.

Remus laughed. "No, of course not. This is another kind of Foe Glass, only that it shows you untrustworthy persons. It works well, although you should define your meaning of trustworthiness beforehand. It could confuse you if the glass is always fogging. You know, all the little teenager ploys …" He grinned insolently and Sirius snickered behind his hand.

"Why, of course I would want to know if they are working for Voldemort or against him," said Harry and frowned. "But how can I adjust the mirror to do that?"

"Intent," explained Remus patiently. "And, of course, a little spell. You just have to think hard about your definition of trustworthiness. And think about it – you'd see the faces of those who're not trustworthy, unlike the Foe Glasses we have hanging here. When they are finally showing the faces it's almost too late to do anything about it."

"I'll think about it," promised Harry. "Give me a little bit time." He slipped the mirror in his pocket and opened a letter Sirius had given him. He frowned. "Since when is it custom to send letters as presents … oh …"

After reading the first few lines, Harry blushed crimson and dropped it. Bill frowned and picked the parchment up. He read it, and on his face mirth and anger changed back and forth.

"It looks like ickle Harrykins has gotten himself an admirer," he said finally and handed the letter to Remus. "Although it's a bit heavy …"

Remus squealed. "Oh my god, she says she wants to grip your–"

"What! _What_!" yelled Fred and George. Their bright pink donkey ears twitched in excitement.

"Remus!" scolded Sirius and ripped the letter out of Remus' hands. "Not in front of the children." He tore it and threw the pieces into the conveniently nearby placed fireplace.

Hermione frowned. "That was an admirer? What did she write?"

"She, uh, offered herself, basically," stammered Harry. His neck was still burning in embarrassment. He shoved the letters to Ron, Fred and George when he saw that they were curiously looking at them. "Help yourself," he muttered. Ginny howled in protest when Mrs Weasley managed to grab her before she could get one of the letters, too.

"But, _mom_! I'm _fifteen_ for Merlin's sake!" she yowled. "I _know_ what they're writing about!"

"We'll see about that," replied Mrs Weasley hotly. "You're grounded until school starts, young lady! Arthur, say something!"

Mr Weasley rubbed his neck and looked very uncomfortable. "Darling, it's Ginny's choice if she wants to, uhm, explore …"

"Explore my arse, Arthur Weasley! You're encouraging your daughter to do unmentionable things!" shouted Mrs Weasley.

"Unmentionable? I think not," said Snape to no one in particular, smirking infuriatingly. "How else would you have gotten such a proud number of children?"

Fleur snickered behind her finely manicured hand. Hermione and Mrs Weasley glared at both of them, but Harry, who had been following the argument in genuine amusement, couldn't deny the truth of that statement.

Ron, who skilfully ignored his ranting mother, took a letter and opened it. "This one is like the last. Gross … some ideas people have … sounds as if she's bonkers, really … she even tried to paint it. Looks rather painful, if you ask me." He tossed it away in Fred's direction and opened the next one. "But this one is nice. He wants to meet you somewhere and celebrate your first kiss with him under the full moon when the cherry trees are blooming … I wouldn't go if I were you, mate. It could be a hungry werewolf with a sense for dinner atmosphere. No offence, Remus."

Remus frowned. "Why are people sending you such letters, Harry?" With a soundless wave of his wand he collected all the letters which had Fred and George protesting in indignation. Harry suspected that they had just discovered a porn letter. Fred was even pulling his ears in frustration.

Snape snorted impatiently in the background. "Oh please, Lupin. Obviously Mr Potter's never ceasing stunts encouraged them to direct their pathetic affections at him. For what reasons I'll never know." He summoned one of the letters, read over it quickly and then sneered at Harry. "And how generous your admirers are with their virtue when it comes to you, Potter."

"Now, Severus, that's not nice," admonished Dumbledore lightly. "That's fan mail, and with all the press around Harry he sooner or later had to get these. He's coming of age slowly." He smiled his infuriatingly genial smile and Snape bristled.

"Yes, 'ee's becoming a _man_ now," added Fleur bitingly. "The girls will come on to 'im naturally." Her gaze became icy, along with her voice. "And 'ee's such a 'andzome boy."

Ron glared at Harry which promptly made Hermione elbow him sharply. Bill on the other hand was smirking.

"Right, darling, very handsome. Some people will have to watch out soon."

He and Fleur glared hotly at each other while Mrs Weasley started to fuss over Harry and condemned the writers of the letters. It had been just a few but obviously Mrs Weasley had a problem with them. Not that Harry liked them any better.

"They'll stop writing you when you're not answering," said Hermione unconvincingly. When Fred, George and Ginny threw her a look she sighed. "Oh, forget it. They'll flood you with them, especially now that you don't have a girlfriend."

Harry whimpered. He remembered the last year just too well when he had given Rita Skeeter the interview about Voldemort's resurrection and people had owled him from all over the country. But now it was obviously personal since he had done nothing to provoke them. His only consolation was that Malfoy, who was a whole lot more handsome and richer than him, would get the worse mail. And hopefully he would be married off to some bitch right after school so Harry didn't have to see the git again. It would serve Malfoy right.

Sirius resolutely burned all the offending letters. Mundungus snickered. "I'd have gott'n a nice sum for those," he said and grinned. Harry noticed for the first time that two of his teeth were missing.

Snape rolled his eyes. "You'd get a nice sum for anything, Fletcher. What about some nice, serious work for a change?"

"I'm always doin' my work seriously!" said Mundungus indignantly.

Arabella Figg hit him with her slipper over the head. "No, you don't, you old, stupid mule! You abandoned Harry for a _handful of_ _cauldrons that_ _were stolen to top it off_!"

"You'd sell Potter's drool if you could get it," claimed Snape and sneered maliciously. "Well, maybe I can get some in the next Potions class for you. Or we ask Miss Granger to catch some in History of Magic."

"At least you're admitting that these subjects are boring, then," replied Harry coolly.

Tonks laughed cheerfully while Moody rolled his magical eye sideward to watch Snape while his normal eye rested on Harry.

"I'm only stating your astounding lack of ability to concentrate for longer than two minutes on the things you're doing, Potter," said Snape, and a vicious smile spread over his face.

"There's some hidden logic. Everybody zones out when it gets uninteresting, therefore it has to be the teacher who's making it boring," replied Harry casually.

"I'd say you're just too lazy to move your ass," said Snape and crossed his arms. "And certain people are even supporting you in that." He looked non-too-subtly at Dumbledore.

"I'm not too lazy, I'm just otherwise occupied," retorted Harry cheekily. "All teachers believe that their subject is the most important of all." He sneered. "That particular trait, Professor, you share with Professor McGonagall, for example. Or Professor Sprout. Or Professor Flitwick."

Snape balled his right hand to a white-knuckled fist but remained silent. Bill laughed and Charlie whispered, "Touché!". Fred and George were smirking at Snape, along with Moody and Tonks.

"Oh, now stop bothering the children," said Mrs Weasley sternly. "It's Christmas you old Scrooge. Here, eat a cookie."

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Snape coldly.

Harry and the Weasley siblings snorted behind their hands which had Snape glaring fiercely at them. Dumbledore beamed at Snape and took one of the offered cookies. Fleur was almost smiling, obviously in spite of herself and her current mood, and Hermione looked pink in the face. The effort to keep it down had to kill her.

"Miss Granger," said Snape suddenly in his softest voice. "I would like to have a word with you." Hermione, who was wiping her eyes in suppressed mirth looked up. Snape bared his teeth. "Now."

Harry squeezed Hermione's hand. She stood up, flattened her skirt and followed Snape out of the room without looking too concerned or even frightened. Only when the door was closed behind them Ginny and Ron heaved a sigh of relief. Mrs Weasley looked ready to swell like a bullfrog and rant about Snape, but Dumbledore's benign smile clipped her off.

"Christmas, Molly," he reminded her happily. "Cookie, boys?"

Fred and George made use of the offer and stuffed themselves with cookies. But right now they seemed a little bit wistful about the unused opportunity to spy on Snape.

Mrs Weasley glared at them. She had forbidden Extendable Ears in Grimmauld Place, and seeing that the twins were members of the Order now, they were privy to almost all of the information anyway.

Daring them to try it anyways, Mrs Weasley glared like a hawk at her trouble-making sons. They didn't live at the Burrow anymore, but when they could annoy their mother they would always have a go at it.

Extendable Ears or plain snooping were deemed dangerous, apparently, so they settled for eating sweets before breakfast. That too was annoying Mrs Weasley a great deal. Harry could tell because a vein was starting to pulse on her temple.

Mr Weasley just shook his head. Fleur was taking a cookie as well, but Harry didn't feel like eating sweets. He wanted to wait for a proper breakfast. Ron on the other hand mindlessly took a handful of cookies while Fleur was munching hers. He couldn't stop staring, apparently, and even Ginny's punches couldn't stop him.

Tonks, Moody, Mrs Figg and Mundungus Fletcher declined too. Sirius called for Twinky and asked her to set the floor for a nice breakfast. And he, much to Harry's surprise, presented her a nice cookie with pink icing and chocolate dots. Twinky bowed deeply, sobbed a high-pitched thank you and popped away to get everything ready.

Remus cuddled in Sirius' embrace and sighed happily. Harry knew they were enjoying the company immensely. All the small quarrels and the bantering made it so wonderful, Harry thought. And he was glad that Sirius liked his new House Elf.

Minutes later Twinky had prepared breakfast on the floor and in between the sitting people. It was like a domestic picnic. Sirius invited them all to dig in, and they did. Harry helped himself to scrambled eggs and toast before he went on to waffles with syrup and hot chocolate with whipped cream. There was plenty of everything, and for a short moment he wished Dudley could see him now.

Bill ate porridge with sugar and cream while Moody speared a piece of roasted ham with his pocket knife. His magical eye spun quickly in its socket and Harry determinedly looked away from him. Bill scooted closer to him, now that Hermione was gone, and started to tease him about the fan mail.

Fleur left her seat on the sofa and joined them, much to Bill's regret. Ron looked cheerful, however. Fleur smiled weakly at him and then resumed her glaring at Bill and Harry.

Her small, well-shaped nose twitched slightly and her lips curved upwards slightly. But it didn't look good on her pretty face, more hateful than anything else actually.

"What is it now, Fleur?" asked Bill coolly. He had seen her expression. "Are you planning to annoy us?"

"Tell me, 'Arry, what are you using for a perfume?" she asked, ignoring Bill completely. She said "perfume" delicately, almost tenderly.

Harry spit the cocoa out he had just gulped down. Ron stared at them both disbelievingly. Even Ginny held her breath – Harry's ranting about _that_ particular topic was still freshly imprinted in their memories. Too freshly for their tastes, actually.

"_Scourgify_," said Charlie unconcernedly and waved his wand at the mess. "What are you talking about, Fleur? Harry doesn't use anything."

Bill sniffed at Harry's neck. "No perfume," he agreed. "A little shower gel, but nothing else."

Fleur sneered. "Really? My fault, then." She eyed Harry calculatingly.

Still choking, Harry wiped the mess from his chin. Ron patted him on the back and Ginny took the mug from his weak fingers. Dumbledore and Moody watched the scene with faint interest, but Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks, Figg and Fletcher hadn't noticed the little squabble. Fleur smirked at Harry and made her cup of coffee latte the centre of her attention. Harry was very thankful for that small mercy.

Hermione and Snape returned ten minutes later. Hermione seated herself between Harry and Ron. Ron immediately asked her why Snape had wanted to talk to her but Hermione told him off and helped herself to breakfast. Dumbledore handed Snape a plate filled with scrambled eggs and beans on toast. Snape looked faintly disgusted but started to eat the eggs without complaint.

"Why won't you tell us what Snape said to you?" ranted Ron and waved about with his fork and knife in his hands when Hermione refused for the third time.

Hermione sighed. "Honestly Ron, not everything is for you to know. And now kindly stop asking, please. I'm rather hungry."

Ginny snickered about Ron's exasperated expression. Harry took his hot chocolate back from her and finished it before he could accidentally spill even more of it. Fred and George riled Ron up even more with some rather dirty jokes until Charlie finally had enough and told them to shut it. Mrs Weasley looked very happy about it.

After breakfast Harry, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Bill and Charlie went back into Harry's room to give their parents, professors and acquaintances some room for themselves.

Charlie helpfully shrunk Hermione's presents to pocket size. She had been very happy about the coupon Harry had given her. She could now buy three books at Flourish and Blotts and Harry would pay for them. Bill shrunk Ron's presents, too. Harry had given him the new poster collection of the Chudley Cannons and some rare items of the team such as a signed tricot and shoes.

Fred and George played cheerfully with the cheque Harry had given them. He had decided to partake in their business with his own money long ago and had now invested another thousand galleons. The present for the twins was the thousand galleons for their use for one year without paying taxes. And with their drive and ability to make money they appreciated the gift. Besides, Harry had no idea what Fred and George would wish for, anyway. Other than their working business, that is. He felt a bit bad for not getting Charlie and Bill anything, but he would make up for it.

Bill switched the radio on and they settled down on the couch and armchairs. Hermione was beaming at Harry and said that she already had plans with her gift. And Harry managed to needle her about her conversation with Snape.

"Come on, you can tell us about it," said Ginny. "We promise that Ron won't do anything about it."

Ron snorted. "Really. And how would you do that?" Bill waved his wand casually in warning, and Ron shrunk back on the couch. "Oh well."

"Yeah, tell us, oh brave Hermione," said Fred.

"We want to hear the tale about the maiden and the old dragon," continued George.

"We must say your Wednesday with Snape is legendary," admitted Fred and shook his head in mock-disbelief. "Even in our heads."

Hermione sighed. "Oh well, I can't stall forever, can I? But it's really nothing special. Professor Snape just wanted to make … amends for his punishment after the … Wednesday."

"Does that mean we'll get the points back?" Ron asked hopefully.

"No, Ron, of course not," said Hermione and smiled. "But at least he said that his behaviour was uncalled for."

"So he apologised," stated Bill.

"As close as Snape can get to do that," said Hermione slowly. "And before you even ask, yes, I still have detention with Snape, but no, I don't have to scrub cauldrons." She smiled wickedly. "Besides, Dumbledore wouldn't allow that. If Snape tries to ship me off to Filch I can always say I want to spend the time with discussing our differences."

Fred smirked. "Wicked, Hermione. One could almost think you like Snape."

"Please," she snorted. "Just because I happen to believe that he's intelligent doesn't mean I like him. He's as much a git as Malfoy, and that's saying something."

"Too true," sighed George. "We have yet to make him tell us some tricks for our next projects."

"He's so incredibly miserly with his secrets, really," said Fred and pouted.

Charlie chuckled. "But you'll get him eventually. And if you're bribing him."

"Bribery! An excellent idea, dear brother!" said Fred happily and just a bit too cheerfully.

"Do you think he'd like photos of 'Mione in the shower?" George asked innocently.

"_What_?" shrieked Hermione. "You don't have – you _can't_ have–" She sputtered and ranted, and all the while Fred and George smiled dreamily.

Harry had the bad feeling that they really had photos of her, but how they could have gotten them he had no idea. Not even Colin and Dennis were so presumptuous to sneak into the girls' bathroom. Not to mention the fact that the girls' dorms were secured against intruding boys. He remembered the ride down of the slippery stairs just too well. His bottom agreed with him.

"I swear, if you even _attempt_ to show them around you're _so_ dead your own _mother_ wouldn't recognise you–"

"But 'Mione, you are so cute," said Fred innocently. "And if I didn't have Angelina I'd have a go at you myself …"

"Give them to me before I hex you. _All_ of them," Hermione growled angrily. "And not just some photos but the negatives, too. Don't make me go to your mother!"

George smiled brightly. "But of course." He reached into his breast pocket and pulled an envelope out. Hermione snatched it and opened it impatiently. Her fiery blush that followed told the others everything they needed to know.

"I'll kill the bastard who made them," she said. Her voice quivered with fury.

Harry noticed that Ginny shrank back slightly. He had a suspicion but decided not to tell Hermione about it. Ron wouldn't like his only sister without her head. Ron sneaked up to Hermione and caught a glimpse at one of the photos. Hermione squealed and pressed them tightly against her chest.

"RONALD WEASLEY! HOW DARE YOU LOOK AT THESE PICTURES?!" She stuffed the envelope into her pocket and leaped up. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

Ron shrieked in fright and wisely fled. The door banged when Hermione charged after him. The others could hear him trying to explain himself, all the while running for his life.

"You look great!" he yelled in desperation. "Really! And what are you doing with that stool?!"

"_Shut the fuck up, Weasley, and be a man for once!"_ roared Hermione in response, and then there was a loud bang.

Fred and George broke down in hysterics while Ginny looked positively ill now.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked her.

"I don't know," she moaned. "It was a stupid dare, and then Fred and George somehow managed to grab them–"

"We did, indeed," grinned George.

"Gin was just envious of Hermione's figure," teased Charlie. That made Ginny blush even more.

"Yeah, she has a wonderful waist," agreed George. He formed an hourglass with his hands and winked. "And I still bet Snape would like them. For any cases we snagged another picture. Maybe we can really bribe him … wouldn't that be a fairytale?" He took it out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Harry.

Harry smiled. This one was actually very cute. Hermione just wore a bra and a nice slip in a soft pink with dark red embroidery on it. She was slender and had indeed nice curves, although she was more on the short side. But then again he personally found tall women intimidating, if not slightly frightening. He would have never imagined for her to be so well-developed; her school uniform and the ton of books she always carried around prevented everyone from seeing the finery of her build. On the photo Hermione was posing cheekily and twirling around, swaying her hips. It seemed this picture had been taken with her full consent, maybe during a girls' night.

"I think he would think about it," admitted Harry, handing the photo back. "But keep it away from her until you do." Silently he hoped Fred and George would just forget about it.

"Will do," said Fred easily and took the photo. "And not just because I need to find that bra for Angelina."

Bill and Charlie sniggered at that. Then the door crashed open and Hermione entered. She held her head high and looked still rather murderous. Ron skulked in after her, rubbing the back of his head gingerly.

"Man, that woman can punch," he muttered darkly.

Harry just snorted. Ron already knew that. He could remember the day very well where Hermione had given Malfoy some well-deserved slaps in the face. Besides, it was his own fault if he decided to take a peek. Harry winked at Ginny and the girl relaxed.

Since nobody said anything about the offending pictures, Hermione gave up her defiant stance and sat back down in her armchair. Ron sat down next to Harry, still muttering under his breath.

"Oh, Harry, before I forget it, Mrs Weasley is taking me to Diagon Alley tomorrow," said Hermione. "I need to buy my new wand, and then I'll go change money for you, alright?"

"Do you think twenty galleons are enough?" Harry asked.

"Twenty galleons are almost eight hundred pounds. The restaurant is really fancy, although eight houndred pounds _really_ ought to be enough. But if you want to change more you just have to say so." Hermione shrugged as if to say: "It's your money."

"That'll be enough, I hope," chuckled Harry. "We're only three people, after all, even if we try to empty the bar."

"So, you're taking Sirius and Remus out for a fancy dinner?" said Bill. "I'm jealous, Harry."

Fred and George snickered. "Fleur is not," said Fred. "Watch out, Bill, she'll be all over you the second they're leaving."

"That's one reason why I'm jealous," admitted Bill and snorted. "But then again …" His eyes rested on Harry and he looked pensive for a moment. "Good company is always desirable."

Harry felt heat rising in his cheeks and cursed himself for being so immature.

"I hope Ollivander is able to help you, 'Mione," said Ron and successfully led the conversation to another topic. "Bill once had to find a new wand, and it was horrible. They went through the whole shop and couldn't find one. Then Ollivander had to contact his brother in Egypt."

"Where I promptly found the fitting wand," said Bill proudly. "And now somebody tells me there's no fate involved in such things." He and Charlie shared a secret smile.

Harry smiled weakly. He really couldn't protest that. Ginny shifted in her seat, making Fred and George nervous.

"What's up with you now?" George asked in annoyance. "Mom is nowhere near in sight, and she didn't even realize that you mixed some Hiccup Powder in her tea."

"Our Ginny is becoming really sneaky lately," added Fred and smirked. "Who knew she had it in her."

"Hiccup Powder?" Harry asked in disbelief. "Your poor mother."

"Well, _I_ didn't give it to her," replied George and grinned.

Ginny blushed in mortification and lowered her head. Bill snickered and twirled his ponytail around his index finger.

"And what are we doing now?" he asked. "We got presents, stuffed ourselves, now I want to have some fun!"

"We could always go and bother Snape," said Fred slyly. "And he can't even give us detention."

"Or take points," agreed George.

"I'd say I bothered him enough for one day," muttered Hermione. "If I were you I'd think about it. He'll most likely be writing some letters now."

"How would you know that, 'Mione?" Ron asked suspiciously. Harry was glad to see a flicker of Ron's old jealousy crossing through his eyes.

"Honestly Ron!" she huffed. "Don't you ever _look_? He's gotten letters and presents, and since he's a meticulous person he'll answer them right away. I'd even bet on it."

"Oh, right," said Fred morosely. "We once dared to ignite a Dungbomb when he was grading our essays–"

"-never again!" swore George. "We never once did _that_ again. It was terror. Double detention with Filch and old Snape …"

"Oh, the horrors," said Fred and made a movement as if he was fainting.

"I'm sure it served you right," said Hermione condescendingly. Harry had the suspicion that she would never forgive them for the incident with the photos.

"I want to cuddle," mumbled Bill and crossed his arms. "England is a lousy place to be during the winter." He huffed.

"You always want to cuddle, just not with your lovely girlfiend," said George.

"Girlfriend," said Hermione and frowned. "Didn't you mean that?"

"Whatever," said George and waved it off.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Fleur is a right beast, Hermione. And you should know that those two never say anything they don't want to say."

Hermione frowned even more. "Girlfiend. Oh well, I just hope it won't become a fashionable word at Hogwarts."

"It would serve some of the birds right, though," said Ron and sniffed, rubbing the bump on his forehead gingerly. "That crossbreed Parkinson, for example. I swear, she's half pug and half wizard."

Harry and Hermione snorted at that.

"Sooner or later the lovely Fleur will show her true colours," prophesied Fred and curled his lips in distaste. "Ronnikins should leave her alone, really."

"I'm not doing anything!" cried Ron and blushed.

"Don't deny it," said Ginny smugly. "You're bad enough at lying as it is."

"Oi, Harry," said Charlie suddenly, "Didn't you want to show us the house? The last time I've been here the half of it was still a mouldy ruin. Besides, my legs are cramping."

"I totally forgot that," said Harry sheepishly. "Well, come on then. Maybe we can bother Snape, anyway. This is now my house, too, after all."

They shared an evil grin and left Harry's room quickly. Harry showed them the second floor first. They inspected every room, but Harry only showed them thosesecret rooms the others had discovered by themselves; it would take the whole day to make the grand tour.

Then they trudged up to the third floor and peeked in every room. One door was locked and Hermione said that this had to be Snape's room. Harry agreed – the door reeked of locking and silencing spells. Their shared a laugh at Snape's paranoid habits and skulked on.

The next few rooms they visited were those of Mr and Mrs Weasley, Tonks and Moody. In their suites they didn't dare snoop around too much; especially Moody could get rather angry if someone even attempted to go through his things.

The fourth floor was like a playground for the twins. The shabby room in which Harry and Snape had had their unfortunate Occlumency lesson, they discovered, was dampening their magical signature. They could perform magic if they wanted to, but no one really wanted to spend Christmas with spells and charms. Not even Harry who was always interested in learning and training with new spells and hexes. Bill examined the wards and was quite impressed with them.

"I'd need a day or two to breach these," he said. "Almost as tricky as the old Egyptian tombs, these ones. Usually it only takes me a few hours to take the majority of the Egyptian tombs' wards down."

Harry felt oddly proud, although it wasn't Sirius' doing that the wards were so magnificent. He also briefly felt a pang of regret that he and Snape hadn't fought with each other properly. He could have attacked the greasy git with his wand, not just his hands. If he just had known earlier about that. On the other hand his godfather and Dumbledore probably had very good reasons not to tell him that.

He shook off his regrets and anger and showed the others the remaining rooms on the fourth floor. Most of them looked vast and not lived in, although Sirius and Remus had renovated and furnished them properly. Harry wondered if the magical centre in the Living Room was drawing the attention of visitors toward the lower storeys of the house.

Fred and George were prodding and digging everywhere, and they were quite successful in discovering secret rooms or corridors. But Harry still needed to say the passwords to show them to his friends. When Fred and George begged him to show him the infamous map of the house, however, Harry refused. Sirius and Remus trusted him with it and he at least wanted to ask for permission first before he promised anything to the twins. If Sirius was okay with it he would gladly fill his friends in.

They wandered to the first floor and poked their heads in every room that admitted them. They could even visit Remus' and Sirius' room. It looked comfy and well lived in. Harry liked it immediately and thought about the nights the two spent in here. The bed was made and everything was in order, thanks to Twinky, but there was still some kind of presence, as if the magical signature of Harry's godfathers had branded itself into the walls, the carpet and the wardrobes and cupboards.

Finally Hermione discovered the library and Bill had to drag her out bodily, or she'd have been stuck there reading until the end of the holidays.

After the rather unpleasant fight with Hermione they forewent the cellar in favour of the Living Room where Twinky was busy setting the table. Mrs Weasley came to get them and ushered them at the table and in their seats. Only then they realised how much time had passed during their tour through the house. Several stomachs were growling in anticipation.

Looking over the guests Harry noticed that Snape looked even sourer than usual; he practically glared a hole in Fred's head and glanced at Fleur in annoyance every now and then. Dumbledore sat next to Snape, and again Harry wondered if he was playing the watchdog for their Potions Master.

Arabella Figg and Mundungus Fletcher had apparently taken their leave while they had been busy touring through the house.

"And, Severus, when will you go back to Hogwarts?" Mr Weasley asked.

"As soon as possible," said Snape bitingly and glared unsubtly at Dumbledore.

"Oh, yes," snapped Mrs Weasley sarcastically, "Why not? Leave us alone with the junk Fletcher dragged in here!"

"I fail to see how this concerns me," replied Snape. His voice carried an edge of smugness that riled Mrs Weasley up even more. "It's not my junk, and it's most certainly not my house. Why don't you ask Black?"

"BECAUSE HE'S JUST AS BAD AS FLETCHER!" shrieked Mrs Weasley. "I thought you at least have _some_ respect for the belongings of others!"

Snape smirked. "That Black is irresponsible is not news to me." Sirius scowled at him over the table. "But what Fletcher is doing in his free time, and what he's bringing into this house does not interest me in the slightest. As long as he doesn't steal my wand he'll live."

"On the other hand, Molly, asking Snape for some compassion and care would be like asking Voldemort to spare innocent victims," said Sirius coolly. "You know what to expect of him: nothing."

He and Snape glared at each other. Fred and George cheered them on quietly, but Ron tried to make himself as small as possible so he wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Charlie and Bill looked mildly interested at the squabbling men, but the prospect of food seemed to distract them. Remus told everybody to help themselves and successfully diverted the attention from Snape and Sirius. Fleur poked at her light salad with obvious distrust. Harry could see Hermione already swell like a bullfrog, not unlike Mrs Weasley when she was about to blow a fit at somebody or about something.

"She was just like that at Hogwarts!" hissed Hermione disdainfully. "If she doesn't like the food she could have stayed in France."

"I think she's right," said Ron dreamily. "All that fat, it's not good for our bodies and health …"

Harry and Hermione shared a look when the main course appeared with a soft popping sound on the table. Ron now looked at a big, fat, brown and crispy turkey and his mouth literally watered. Fleur obviously wasn't that important anymore. Harry found Ron's mood swings entertaining, at least when food was concerned.

And the table was indeed beautifully set with white tablecloths, white napkins, with gold adorned plates and bowls, the crystal clear glasses and the gleaming silver cutlery. Over their heads garlands of fir, mistletoe, red bows and some other, good smelling plants created the pre-eating anticipation and Christmas spirit.

Snape and Sirius still glared at each other, but Harry was rather hungry and decided not to let them spoil is appetite, so he took a good look at the delicacies, himself. How could he ever have forgotten that today there would be the traditional Christmas meal?

The two turkeys which towered above everything else on the table were the main course, but the potatoes, the thick, dark brown sauce and a mousse made of onions and apples looked just as appetising. It simply smelled delicious, and with every passing second he discovered more side dishes that went with the turkey.

After a short, mental thank-you-thought to God, Merlin and every known deity Harry and Ron and the other younger attendants of the meal grabbed their cutlery and attacked the food with vigorous appetite. Tonks put some of the turkey and mousse onto Moody's plate before helping herself.

Bill and Charlie started a cheerful conversation about a Christmas day some years ago when some uncle had blown up the goose and sprayed all the guests with the remains. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George choked on their food while they roared with laughter. Hermione suppressed her mirth like any lady would, but her eyes shone treacherously and betrayed her calm attitude. Mrs Weasley, of course, wasn't happy that her sons had brought the shameful incident up. Mr Weasley, on the other hand, felt the need to remind his wife of the even worse Christmas dinner when a certain Aunt Shirley had set the whole table on fire thus making the Christmas crackers explode all over the place. He reasoned that homelessness was a lot worse than an exploding goose and some ruined robes.

Snape and Moody smirked throughout the conversation. They were obviously living vicariously through the Weasleys' family life without experiencing it in the first place, thus sparing themselves humiliation, rage and general chaos. Tonks asked several questions about the Weasleys' relatives and their mishaps at family gatherings.

Sirius at the other end of the table entertained Dumbledore, Remus, Harry and Ron with a story about the last Christmas during his time at school he had celebrated with James Potter, Harry's father, and which took place in James' house. It was funny, but it served more as another titbit of information for Harry. For once Harry didn't feel sad hearing about his parents. He rather liked to think that they had had fun then, and no worries in the world.

Fleur was poking morosely at her food. Harry thought she felt torn between fleeing and celebrating Christmas with her family and staying here to defend her boyfriend. That said boyfriend wanted out of the long since dead entanglement was blissfully ignored. Harry found a disturbing resemblance to his own situation with Cho. Only that he liked to think that Cho wasn't as clingy as Fleur, or as persistent.

Hermione next to him stared at Fleur in open dislike. Just at that moment Fleur grabbed her napkin, dabbed the corners of her mouth and threw it angrily on her untouched food.

"I think I'll go now," she said coldly. "I've had enough!"

All conversation stopped. Harry silently applauded Fleur's sense for drama. But the moment of shock was quickly gone. Snape put his cutlery down and stared at Fleur, smirking maliciously.

"And of what have you had enough, Miss Delacour?" he asked silkily. "If the meal is not to your satisfaction you're free to ask the resident House Elf for something else. I remember Black saying something along these lines."

His cool voice somewhat deflated her rage. She threw her hair over her shoulder and pursed her lips. Sirius and Remus looked at her in obvious amusement, much like Bill, Charlie, Fred and George.

"If you muzt know, Professeur, I am fed up!" She pouted and glared at Bill. "And I'm sure you know well inough about what!"

"Indeed," said Snape. The words sounded sensual, as if he was suppressing laughter.

"Bezides," she sniffed, "I think I 'ave some things I need to zink over." She looked at Ron who stared at her with his mouth half opened and food filling his cheeks. He looked like a hamster that was hoarding food. Fleur looked away, clearly disgusted by the image. Instead her stare rested on Harry.

Harry felt like squirming, but his pride forbade him to move or even blink. So what if she was mad at him for playing along with Bill's little scheme?

"Do that, Fleur, and give my regards to Olympe if you're visiting Beauxbaton," said Bill dismissively. "I think Gabrielle will be glad to see you over the holidays."

"And … and I'm not feeling very welcomed 'ere," she said in a hurt voice, ignoring Bill. "You are all 'ating me."

Everybody shifted uncomfortably. Only Dumbledore watched her with his usual, serene expression, and a slight smile played around his aged lips.

"There, there," said Dumbledore finally when the silence became deafening. "Nobody hates you, I'm sure, but there are some unresolved issues hanging over our heads. And I hope I guess correctly when I say some of it has to do with yourself."

Harry thought that Dumbledore's statement was the understatement of the month. All the females disliked her, and almost all of the boys thought she was the female equivalent of a player. Only Mr Weasley, Remus, Sirius and Dumbledore seemed unaffected. Snape, however, showed much more emotion about her than Harry would have given him credit for. He guessed that Fleur was simply annoying him.

"Oui, mais …," stammered Fleur. Her angry stance faltered, and for a moment she just looked lost. "You muzt understand, 'eadmaster, I am a woman with _needz_, and my boyfriend dezides to _ignore_ me–"

Fred and George coughed unsubtly while Bill cleared his throat loudly.

"I'm sure she has needs," said Hermione not too quietly. "Only that some people are not willing to _tend_ to them."

Snape looked at her with an almost approving expression on his face. Mrs Weasley snorted quietly. Mr Weasley just looked unhappy. For someone who was married for so long it was clearly sad to see young couples break up. Harry, however, wasn't all that sorry. He felt almost happy for Bill. Now he apparently got the freedom he had desired for so long.

Fleur glared at Hermione. "I didn't azk for your opinion, Granger," she hissed. "If you don't feel like a woman it'z your conzern. But keep it to yourself."

"Now, Fleur," admonished Sirius. "Play nicely in my house, please."

Hermione looked ready to slap Fleur back to France instead of letting her use the Floo connection or Apparate. Harry had to admit that this had been a mean bait at her femininity. Now that he knew what Hermione looked like under her robes, it seemed rather harsh to him. Besides, personally he thought that Hermione's face could easily rival Fleur's in beauty easily. But maybe that was only his opinion.

Fleur looked contemptuously at Hermione, ignoring Sirius. "But maybe you need to learn from ozers. You are not quite an eye-catcher, are you?"

Harry bristled, along with the rest of the Weasleys minus Ron, who was staring adoringly at Fleur.

"Miss Delacour," said Snape before the two girls could go at each other's throats, "I believe you wanted to leave?"

Fleur smiled sweetly. "Indeed, Professeur. I'll just get my thingz. Salut everyone." She waved carelessly and swaggered out of the Living Room. Her hair swayed to the left and right like a stream of silvery blond silk.

"Thank god," groaned Fred. "Some people actually wanted to eat."

George snickered. "And enjoy it."

"Oh, but I thought it was superb entertainment," said Hermione dryly. "She's quite the drama queen, isn't she?" She rolled her eyes and helped herself to potatoes and another slice of turkey flesh.

"Unlike other people," sneered Snape sarcastically and glanced at her.

Hermione chose to ignore the jibe.

"Well, she's gone now," said Bill cheerfully. "I really have to thank you, Harry. Without your help she would have never left me alone."

Harry blushed crimson in less than a second. And he could feel the weight of Snape's stare on him. It was disturbing.

"Well, I hope you are not starting to discuss the sordid little details of your romantic tryst during lunch, are you?" Snape asked, and the terrible amusement in his voice made it even worse for Harry. He actually wished for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"I assure you they're not sordid," said Bill jovially. "But it's not your business, anyway, right?"

"Love is in the air," sang Fred and George. It sounded like gibberish because their mouths were stuffed with turkey.

Mrs Weasley started to yell at them for their horrid table manners. The twins ducked away, laughing maniacally. While at it they somehow managed to push Charlie so his goblet flew right over the table and splattered Tonks with hot apple wine.

"Ewww! Look what you've done! My dress!" shouted Tonks furiously. "Spell it clean! Now!" She pointed at the wet front of her cute white dress.

Charlie laughed and did as he was told. Moody's magical eye rested on Tonks' neckline, even after the nasty spot had been cleaned. Ron had to suppress a startled choke. Or maybe he was in pain, because Hermione had hit him sharply with her elbow.

"_Owww_! What was that for?" yelped Ron.

"Ron, you are _so_ stupid sometimes," said Ginny, rolling her eyes.

"Love," said Snape slowly and directly to Harry, completely ignoring the noise around them, "Is a very heavy word." He smiled unpleasantly. "And the thing itself is even worse. You'll see, Potter." His black eyes rested a few seconds longer on Harry, before he finally looked away.

Moody, who had been silent until now, decided to intervene. "Is this why you're always so austere, Snape?" he asked. "Really? I came to believe that you like challenges. And love is said to be the greatest challenge of all. Is there nothing that touches you?"

"Professor Snape is touching someone?" Fred crowed from under the table where he had been hiding from his mother. He had, of course, purposefully misunderstood the meaning of Moody's words.

"_Fred_!" shrieked Mrs Weasley. "You have _no_ right to pry into personal affairs of others!" She made a grab for him, but Fred weaselled away quickly and crouched away under the table, clanking against the legs of the table and stepping occasionally on someone's feet.

"Who is it, Professor?" asked George cheekily, leaning backwards when Mrs Weasley tried to grab him, too. "Maybe Professor Sinistra? She's hot! And she would go with your whole dark-and-intimidating thing."

Snape's glare looked positively lethal now. Harry thought that Fred and George should be very, very thankful that they were no longer attending Hogwarts. The point loss that would have followed this day would have been passed down to another ten generations of Gryffindors. Hermione looked rather relieved that the attention was diverted from her, no matter the costs.

"You might have left school, but you haven`t left my vicinity," said Snape darkly. "Not by a long shot. If I were you - which I'm not, thankfully – I would watch out what I wassaying."

"Well, we have reasons–," said Fred.

"-for not leaving your vicinity, dear Professor," said George. "We want you–"

"-to help us out in some things," said Fred.

Harry and Hermione groaned. It was really exhausting to see and hear them drabbling the words at each other and confusing the victim. But Bill's eyes were twinkling merrily, so Harry believed that the twins' plan couldn't be that bad.

"_You will not drag Professor Snape into this!"_ shouted Mrs Weasley. "_That godforsaken shop of yours is causing enough trouble already!_"

"Well, we opened it for exactly that purpose," said George reprovingly. "You, as our mother, should know that."

"Besides, we're earning money, the year after next year we will marry–," continued George before his raging mother interrupted him.

"_MARRY! Fred and George Weasley, NO GIRL SHOULD BE CONDEMNED TO MARRY YOU!_ I need to _warn_ the girls–"

"You want to marry? Do Angelina and Katie know that?" Ron asked suspiciously.

George grinned. "No, but now that you're mentioning it, we _should_ ask, dear brother of mine. Or not?"

"Yes, I definitely think that is in order. They're ladies, after all." Fred bowed to Ron and smiled broadly. "And I think we need to buy rings sometime soon."

Several jaws hung open at that remark. Harry briefly wondered if Fred and George would ask Angelina and Katie asthey did in his fourth year when they asked the two out for the Yule Ball. But then again, hopefully not. He could almost see them standing there in the Gryffindor common room, tossing boxes with the rings to the girls and asking them flippantly if they, by any chance, wanted to marry them.

He shuddered when he thought about the possible "Why not" of Angelina. But seeing that the twins were getting down to serious business like getting rings for an engagement that ultimately led to a wedding that they wanted to celebrate in spring after next year, it certainly was something to go by.

"A wedding!" roared Sirius in delight. "I bet Twinky would be excited to help."

Ginny and Hermione giggled happily. Ron had to let them swear that they didn't give it away to Katie or Angelina, because if the one knew, the other would, too. And they really didn't want to ruin Fred and George the surprise of proposing to them suitably. Whatever that meant for the two of them.

Snape groaned. "Oh, I'm so looking forward to yet another generation of Weasleys."

Mr Weasley was excited. "Then you'll be the first ones to marry!" he said and clapped his hands together in excitement. For once he didn't cower before Mrs Weasley's ugly stare. "I actually thought Charlie would marry first."

"Naah, my darling is shy about such things," said Charlie and smiled gently. "He's just not used to commitments. But I have to say, he made me believe otherwise these last three or four years."

"Roman is that type of guy who's not thinking about the relationship as long as nobody talks about it," said Bill wisely. "It just works out. But if somebody came with a ring and a proposition he'd run without thinking twice."

"I'll tame him sometime," replied Charlie casually. "I have all the time in the world for him."

"Yeah, Roman is committing without making a show of it. He's staying and that means Charlie is good for him," said Bill and punched said brother lightly in the shoulder.

Snape smirked at them. "You're really entertaining, Messieurs Weasley," he said. "I think I will at least let you try to fill me up with cheap alcohol and propose whatever sordid plan you have in your little heads."

"_Severus Snape!"_ shrieked Mrs Weasley rather predictably. "You shouldn't encourage these two!"

"As if they needed Snape to be encouraged," said Ron quietly.

Hermione looked as if she rather agreed with him for once. Harry guessed it hurt her intellect that Snape lowered himself to the level of cheap entertainment, although Harry found it quite funny, really.

Snape's smirk became only wider while Dumbledore's usually friendly expression changed into one of mild concern.

George clapped his hands together. "Wonderful, dear Professor. I'm certain you'll like what we have to offer."

His affable smile made Harry's eyebrow twitch, and he couldn't help but think about those photos of Hermione in the shower. They wouldn't … would they? Would Snape even take them? Snape had already proven that he possessed a weird sense of humour (which, Harry thought rather concernedly, consisted of prying into the morality of people), and he had the foreboding that some kind of malicious mischief wasn't totally beyond him. And knowing that, Harry felt uneasy, thinking about _other_ things Snape might be or do.

Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands.

"What's up, mate?" Ron asked in slight concern. "Aren't you feeling well?"

"Too much Butterbeer," mumbled Harry and fought the redness out of his cheeks. He hoped very much that Fred and George didn't have copies of those pictures. He really did.

Twinky appeared and immediately saw that Fleur was gone.

"Oh no!" she wailed in her high-pitched elf voice. "Miss Fleur Delacour didn't like Twinky's food!" She banged her head against the table and sobbed hysterically. "Twinky's food was bad! Miss Fleur Delacour didn't want Twinky's food! Twinky is a bad, bad elf! Twinky can do nothing right! Twinky has to clamp her ears with the sandwich-maker!"

Sirius actually grabbed her and held her still before she could rush off to do exactly that. "Hush," he said. "Fleur left because she was homesick. The food is wonderful, Twinky. There's no need to punish yourself."

Several murmurs of agreement calmed Twinky down and she sniffed quietly. "Twinky is wanting to please Master Sirius. I really is."

"You are," confirmed Sirius and petted her gently on the head. "And now be good and bring the dessert, alright?"

"Yes, Master Sirius," said Twinky and curtsied deeply. Her wet eyes glistened in the candlelight, but the tears were already drying.

Hermione frowned but remained silent, for which everybody in the room was rather thankful. S.P.E.W. had been funny as long as it went, but in the end Hermione had to see that House Elves really liked to work for humans, and that, apart from the occasional oddball, they also liked to be treated like slaves.

Twinky vanished and reappeared with a huge tray full of cakes and pastries. Everybody who wanted it got a glass of ice wine, and Harry, Ron and Hermione grabbed handfuls of gingerbread cookies.

"Oh, just think about your teeth," said Hermione and sighed. "I mean, it's good and all, but the sugar–"

"Honestly, 'Mione, one would think you'd let your brain rest for a day or two on Christmas," said Ron teasingly.

Snape sneered at Hermione and looked as if he thought that this was thoroughly impossible. He most likely did, Harry guessed.

"Well, anyway," said Fred, "It's delicious."

"It is," agreed George. "And while our hosts are dining in London on Saturday we can try to persuade our most liked Professor."

Snape sneered. "I didn't plan to stay here longer than necessary," he purred.

"There, there, Severus," intervened Dumbledore just asHarry knew he would, "You should mingle more with people of your own age."

Everybody except Dumbledore looked incredulous. Only Moody barked a short laugh. It was true that several teachers at Hogwarts were much older than Snape, but a lot of people in the Order were certainly younger than him.

But Snape didn't put up much of a fight. In fact, he looked at Mrs Weasley in cold amusement and said: "I should use the opportunity to get some ingredients while I can, then. Molly, would you mind me coming along?"

"Of course not, Severus," she huffed. "Don't be stupid." Her posture made clear that she wanted to keep an eye on Fred, George and him, and Snape knew that and played toit.

Dumbledore smiled infuriatingly and Bill and Charlie smirked behind their mother's back. Ginny giggled quietly.

"You'll have fun tomorrow, Hermione," she said. "With those two in tow …"

"I believe Professor Snape will have even more fun," replied Hermione and smirked.

"I certainly hope so, Miss Granger," said Snape, and the corners of his mouth lifted in an odd sort of smile.

After lunch they all fell into some kind of coma. Ron didn't even want to play wizarding chess, which really didn't happen very often. After one hour of leisure Harry started to feel restless, though, so he, Hermione and Ginny grabbed Bill and Charlie and annoyed Remus discreetly to show them the best books about curses and hexes in the library. Hermione had been crazy about the library earlier, but Harry and Ron had forbidden her to hide herself in there over Christmas, and she'd grudgingly agreed.

But now that Harry was fidgety himself he insisted that they could get some work done. Bill readily agreed, and Hermione was almost glowing with excitement. Harry ran up to his room to get their list of curses and jinxes. Remus sighed good-naturedly and declared that he would be the one to guide them. Sirius smugly started to distract Snape and the others. Right now it seemed Mr and Mrs Weasley were rather grateful to get rid of their bunch of children.

Pretending that they were just going up to Harry's room, they locked themselves in the library and immediately started to work. Remus levitated several books from the shelves for them, and Bill and Charlie were already dictating some useful spells to Hermione. After a few minutes Remus left to keep the others unsuspecting_._ But no one was complaining; they had so many books lying around that it would occupy them for a few days.

Remus had set up three dictating quills on three different sheets of parchment for them. Harry couldn't help but admire these quills; they worked efficiently and cleanly. And the parchment filled quickly. Ron, Ginny, Fred and George called every five minutes another jinx, spell or hex, and Harry found himself looking through a heavy tome of battle curses, jotting the names of a lot of spells down, along with a short description.

Fred and George, on the other hand, amused themselves with a book about sneaky, magical trap spells. Ron was laughing hard after an hour because the twins discovered tripping spells, tickle attacks, the Bell Charm (Harry found it rather cruel to attack someone with that spell; it let a bell appear around the head of the cursed person, and a loud gong would render them helpless) or other nasty things like hiccupping jinxes and itching curses.

Ron and Ginny found them ingenious, really, and Harry had to admit that there was something to be said about the simplicity of things. Who of the Death Eaters would expect to be struck by an itching curse? And who expected to be jinxed to hiccup themselves into oblivion? Those spells were considered child-magic, and that might very well be their advantage.

After roughly three hours Remus came back and ushered them out of the library one by one. With clever spells he, Bill and Charlie bound their notes together and let them look like some work journal of a long gone Black. Hermione put the quills away, grabbed the parchment and left. Harry guessed that she wanted to sort through them, and he wasn't about to argue. He just hoped that Snape wouldn't find out what they were doing, or worse, Dumbledore.

When they finally were all safely back in Harry's room they started discussing. Remus had left them alone once again and instead rejoined the other adults in the Living Room. He claimed not wanting to know what they were really up to. Now Harry was spokesperson and leader once more, and he enjoyed it.

"First things first," said Harry. "How long are you all staying?"

Hermione smiled. "My parents told me I could stay for the rest of the holidays if I wanted to. And if we are actually getting some work done I'd like to stay."

Ron and Ginny nodded. "We want to stay, too. We can try those spells out," said Ron in excitement. "You've got that room, right? They said it's dampening our magic, so Umbridge can't do a thing."

"We have to go back in two days," said Bill regretfully. "Charlie and I are needed. But you can write and tell us how it is going."

"Family code," Ginny reminded them. "Just in case."

Charlie groaned. "Oh no, not again. Roman laughed himself silly after he read the first letter! It was so embarrassing!"

Hermione clucked her tongue reprovingly. "Would you rather the owls are intercepted and Voldemort knows what we're up to? Get over your pride already."

Charlie grimaced while Ginny, Fred and George laughed. Harry rifled through a stack of parchments, then glanced at Fred and George.

"And what are you two planning? I mean, after you try to fill Snape up."

"Oh, I don't know," said George and shrugged. "I guess we will just sleep our hangovers off."

"And from Monday on we have to be in our shop. New Year's Eve is coming," added Fred. "People always buy Zonko's out and now it's our turn."

"Besides, our new side store in Hogsmeade is coming, soon," said George. He winked. "And if we are _accidentally_ in Hogsmeade when You-Know-Who attacks, well–"

"We certainly won't argue about that," said Hermione curtly. "Just see that you're not telling others about our plans, alright? Especially not Snape or Dumbledore or your parents."

Fred and George nodded solemnly. "We understand. So the DA, and that includes us, wants to work independently. We are so proud of you."

Harry chuckled and handed Fred their new list. At their meeting in Hogsmeade he had forgotten to let them sign, but now seemed to be the perfect opportunity. George took the offered quill from Hermione and signed with a flourish before he handed both to his brother. After them Bill and Charlie signed too, just for good measure. They all smiled conspiringly at each other.

"Oh, and Harry, we will come by and give you a complete list with instructions about how best to use our stuff in battle," said George and grinned. "We don't want you to waste it, now do we? Death Eater butts aren't worth it, really."

They laughed and then turned to their papers to put togethera curriculum for the second term. Zacharias Smith and his big mouth was irking Harry the most, but he supposed without somebody who opposed him so openly it would get boring after a while. Besides, opposition always made him think about things and come up with better solutions. But Smith was still an irksome little bug in his opinion, and he only really suffered his presence because of Hermione's list and because his friends helped restrain him.

Harry wanted to put in some rather complicated spells. When Ginny protested he just argued that they had already mastered the Patronus Charm and the most difficult body-shielding spell they could find.

Hermione agreed and listed some more jinxes before they went on to more defence spells and charms. Fred, George and Ginny insisted on taking some 'sneaky spells' in, because they were simple and very effective. Everybody agreed, even Hermione, who was known for her intellectual demands.

When they were done almost an hour later they had quite a list for the DA. Harry knew that it was enough to fill the weekly lessons for the DA completely, and he still had to teach some spells out of Luna's book before he wanted to start on the curses they had collected today. At least they were finished already and could start to train them.

"Alright, that's enough work for today," yawned Bill. "It's Christmas, for Merlin's sake, and I won't scribble one more word or use one more brain cell."

Hermione snorted. "Oh come on, it was _me_ who did the whole writing!"

"Now I really want to cuddle," said Bill. He looked pointedly at Harry and then simply grabbed him.

"Wow!" cried Harry. He landed in Bill's arms with an "Ooph!". His glasses were askew and he straightened them clumsily.

Ron gagged theatrically. "Do you _have_ to do that?" he asked accusingly. "It was bad enough to have you snogging Harry this morning!"

"I didn't hear him complain," replied Bill and grinned cheekily. "Besides, he's really cuddly. I wonder why you haven't done it yourself already, actually."

Both Harry and Ron blushed hard, but fortunately Mrs Weasley chose the moment to make an appearance. She poked her head into the room and eyed her children.

"Oh Bill, can't you leave Harry alone for a moment? The poor boy must be completely put out with you! Now come, dinner is ready and the others are waiting."

Harry was glad that Mrs Weasley was there. Ginny's smirking and Hermione's smug, knowing glances were unsettling him, but Ron's faintly revolted face was even worse. What if he had a real problem to accept that Harry might like boys better than girls? Feeling a bit shaky he freed himself of Bill's embrace and went after Mrs Weasley.

"What is with him?" Ron asked in confusion. Harry wished he would just shut up.

"Nothing, Ron," replied Hermione casually. "And now come, they are waiting for us."

Harry sighed in relief when Ron kept silent after that. Hermione might be too nosy for her own good, but at least she wasn't spreading secrets.

Dinner was a loud and funny affair. For once Remus didn't enforce his seating arrangement. Snape retreated to Moody and Tonks while Bill pushed Ron out of his way and claimed the seat next to Harry. Charlie snickered and sat next to Bill. Sputtering, Ron sat on the other side of Harry, with Hermione sitting next to him.

Ginny, Fred and George sat as far away from their parents as possible, no doubt planning some mischief again, and Remus, Sirius, Dumbledore and Mr and Mrs Weasley claimed the other side of the table for themselves.

Twinky had prepared soup, sandwiches and hot, spicy pastries for them. Harry noticed that she had made everything with very fresh ingredients, and that a lot of the food was adorned with salad and other vegetables. She obviously wanted them to eat healthy.

Bill and Ron bantered over Harry's head, and Snape smirked at him with barely suppressed glee. Moody's magical eye rotated quickly, but not from side to side but from up to down in a never ending spin.

Harry forced himself to look away; it was just too disconcerting. Tonks elbowed Moody and ordered him to clean the eye before it made somebody run away, screaming.

"Alastor!" screamed Mrs Weasley through the whole room when he attempted to take the eye out, "Do _n_ot clean that thing at the table!"

Moody grinned and bared his crooked teeth. He completely ignored Mrs Weasley's incessant screeching and popped the eye out of its socket. The wet, squelching sound made everybody's hair stand on end.

"Ewww!" said Ginny and pulled a face.

"Really," said Bill, "That's rather disgusting, Moody. Some people wanted to eat."

Hermione scrunched her face up but obviously forced herself not to look away. Charlie, on the other hand, just speared a sausage and bit into it unconcernedly.

"Babies," replied Moody gruffly and let the eye fall into his water glass. "What will you do if a hex rips your arm off?"

Tonks sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. "That's all fine, really, but could you at least try to respect other people's appetite? It's not as if someone would attack us this instant."

"But they bloody well might!" said Moody. "Constant vigilance! How often do I have to say that? It should be your _prayer_ before you go to sleep!" He stomped with his wooden leg.

"Now, Alastor," said Dumbledore. "Let the children enjoy their Christmas."

"Children, indeed," said Snape and sneered.

Moody sighed long-sufferingly and fished his eye out of the glass. Ron stared, transfixed, how he dried it with a napkin but didn't pop it back in, yet. Harry found that Moody without the bright blue eye looked rather like an old man than with it. Besides, the place where an eye should be, was gross. Despite its spinning and constant moving the magical eye was better than nothing in his opinion; the dark hole looked somehow more cruel than the eye, and Harry realised how much Moody had really lost while fighting Voldemort.

Thankfully they didn't have time to find out if Moody would have drunken the used water or not, because Twinky refilled his glass quickly. Mrs Weasley glowered at Moody.

"That's preposterous, Albus!" she said, watching how Moody rolled his eye in the palm of his gnarled hand. "If he can't behave then he just can't stay here! How am I supposed to raise my children if he's always interfering with his disgusting eye and all his stories?" She seemed to be really angry because she threw her cutlery on her plate and crossed her arms.

"Uh-oh," said Ron quietly. "That's her fighting stance. Moody better relent or there'll be hell to pay …"

"But mom, you already knew that we are terrible," said George.

"Yeah, and if Moody hadn't encouraged us to do mischief then we'd have heard it from somebody else," added Fred brightly. "It's not your fault, mom, really."

Charlie snorted into his beer but said nothing. Bill watched the exchange with obvious interest, toying with his sandwich absently. Harry couldn't help but notice the movements of the big, slender hands. He sighed and shook his head slightly.

"This has nothing to do with you!" said Mrs Weasley angrily. "He's generally encouraging you to … to do dangerous things!"

Moody paused in what he wanted to say, as did Snape and Dumbledore. An uncomfortable silence settled over the table, and to Harry Mrs Weasley's concern was palpable.

Finally Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"Yes, we know that you don't want to put them in danger, Molly," he said gravely. "But this is a war, and we are lucky that they want to fight for our cause." He smiled gently. "You can't protect them forever, child."

Harry remembered the scene from his summer after fourth year, where Mrs Weasley had tried to ban a Boggart on her own, without the help of her husband or one of her sons or Ginny. She had been terrified by the images of them all, dead and broken. He could feel for her, the image alone was terrible, and he knew that if it wasn't for his own nightmares about Voldemort, Cedric or the terrible battle in the Department of Mysteries he would dream about that scene, too.

"We'll do our best to kick Voldie's ass," said Fred and cheered to his brother with a full glass of Butterbeer.

"Yeah, and if his lackeys should manage to take us down – which I don't believe, by the way - we'll take as many of them with us as possible," added George and cheered back.

"How incredibly noble," muttered Snape.

"Oh no," replied George genially, "We're just looking for trouble. You as our old professor should know that."

"How could I ever think otherwise," Snape sneered back.

Mrs Weasley huffed, but in her eyes was no anger towards Fred and George. She just seemed to have resigned over the fact that her sons and her only daughter all wanted to fight, no matter what. Bill sighed quietly and finally resumed eating his sandwich.

Moody popped his eye back in; the noise was as disgusting as the last time Harry had heard it. Tonks looked at Moody accusingly, but no one said anything else about the topic.

Remus and Sirius looked contemplative, and Harry caught Sirius as he stared at him. He wondered if Sirius ever thought the same about him and Remus. Probably, but if so, he never said anything to pull Harry off fighting Voldemort. If anything, he fully supported him.

Thankfully the uncomfortable atmosphere went away completely after another few minutes. Mrs Weasley apparently refused to fight a losing battle, and the rest of her family seemed tired to go over the same thing for the hundredth time.

Harry, Hermione and the Weasley spawns got up. They all felt rather tired after a day like this_._ Harry still mourned the lack of some more, precious hours of sleep in the morning; Ron always woke him at an ungodly hour at Christmas. And then they had worked quite fervently on their curriculum for next year.

Harry was just glad that his godfathers would grant his requests without asking too much. Nosiness was not something he usually liked or tolerated. Hermione was and would be the only exception.

Bill and Charlie were the only ones that stayed a bit longer with the adults. They politely wished them all a good night before they retreated to the second floor. Fred and George pounded up the stairs and raced into their room, mumbling something to Ron about borrowing Pig for a while. Ron just shrugged.

"I don't even want to know," he said. "It spares me the headache."

"Clever boy," retorted Hermione and smiled. "Do you think Professor Snape will help them eventually?"

"I hope not," muttered Ron. He remembered the pranks Fred and George used to play on him all too well.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know," he said, trying to sound casual. "The question would be what they have to offer, I suppose."

"Lots and lots of alcohol," said Hermione. "Honestly, with as many imbeciles in his classes as he has–"

"Oh, not again!" shouted Ron. "You're defending him again, 'Mione!"

"Well! Who is melting his tables every time? Surely not he himself." She swished a bushy strand of hair over her shoulder. "Really, Ron. Just because you don't like him doesn't mean you can't show some compassion." She raised her chin. "If I was a teacher and all my students were as stupid as some of his, then I would start drinking. That has nothing to do with defending him, Ronald Weasley!"

Harry had to admit that she had a point. But hadn't she always? Ron huffed indignantly and mumbled something about not becoming a teacher, ever. Ginny mocked him and asked him what he would teach, anyway.

They reached Harry's room and bid each other good night. Harry was glad that the day was over. He was tired and looked forward to a day without much activity; and seeing that the Weasleys, Snape and Hermione would go out for shopping tomorrow, Harry guessed he would have a lot of time to laze around.

Sighing, he entered his room, took his clothes off and stumbled into the bathroom to brush his teeth and wash his face. If he was lucky Voldemort would leave him alone tonight; he was in no mood to put up with him. Instead he began to think about his friends' shopping spree tomorrow.

Would Hermione find a fitting wand at Ollivander's? Would she run straight into Flourish and Blott's when she was done? Would Ron go after her? Would Fred and George really get pissed with Snape? And he wondered if Moody, Tonks and Dumbledore would go out, too.

He smirked while he snuggled into his covers. If Snape got drunk tomorrow, maybe he would postpone their Occlumency lesson. On the other hand, he pondered, if Snape wasn't completely drunk in the evening, then they could battle in the secured room, with wands and with full power.

Maybe he was even getting better, now that he still had a great part of Snape's memories in his head. And a lot of them concerned Occlumency and its techniques. This could be interesting.

Troubled that he was finding himself undecidedwhether towish for Snape to get drunkor notin order to train inOcclumency, he pushed these thoughts away and successfully cleared his head after a few minutes. Just before he fell asleep he thought about how glad he was that he thought about normal teenage things, for once.

Well, as normal as things could be for Harry Potter.

--------

On Friday morning life seemed to revolve around the second floor. Harry woke up at eight o'clock, due to a loudly screeching Mrs Black. Her shrill, ringing voice sounded through the whole house, and Harry really wondered why or how the Muggles never seemed to notice.

"Who the _fuck_ took the veil off that damn portrait?" he cursed violently when her shrieking didn't stop after two painfully long minutes.

After another few minutes of excessive cursing it was silent again, but it was already too late for Harry to go back to sleep. He stubbornly wiggled deeper into his covers and tried to rest for a little bit longer.

"RON! HERMIONE! GINNY!" yelled Mrs Weasley. "Get up! We are going to be late! _Get up_!" She soundly pounded on two doors and then at the door of Fred and George's room, too.

Harry groaned and pulled his pillow over his head. Now he knew why he loved the Weasleys but could never live with them in a house forever. Fred and George were heard stumbling out of their room, apparently only in pyjama bottoms. At least that was what Mrs Weasley's loud admonishing told him.

Then two new sets of feet started to tap around, and Harry guessed that this were Ginny and Hermione. A few minutes later Ron's feet joined them as he walked around in search for some clothes and a decent brush or comb. His steps Harry could recognise easily after living for five years in the same dorm with him.

"Bill! Wake up!" shouted Ron brutally. He banged on Bill's door. Thankfully the oldest of the bunch of siblings had no nerves for a long banging concert because he yanked the door violently open.

Harry was astounded at what he could 'see' through hearing.

"What do you want?" Bill asked grumpily. "And make it quick."

"Your comb, Rapunzel," said Ron expectantly.

Bill sighed heavily, then the sound of feet tapping away was heard. Harry guessed he went to get the comb. Seconds later Ron crowed in triumph and skipped back into his room and slammed the door. Another few seconds later Harry's opened quietly and feet sneakily tapped in. The other side of Harry's bed dipped, and then two long, strong arms wound themselves around his body and he was pulled against a lean chest.

"Morning," murmured Bill drowsily. "I hope you don't mind, but they're driving me crazy!"

Harry blushed deeply and forgot to breathe for a few moments. Bill's nose tickled him on his neck and hair.

"Mmh, yer' cuddly, Harry," mumbled Bill, squeezed him for a moment and then settled down.

When Harry was sure he was drifting off to sleep he allowed himself to breathe again. The warm presence behind him disconcerted him more than he was willing to admit, but on the other hand there had never been someone quite as willing to share a bed with him. And Bill obviously just wanted some peace, which was fine with Harry.

Sighing, he finally relaxed and allowed his sleepiness to get the better of him. The trampling and cursing outside his room subsided as he slid deeper in the abyss of sleep.

Two hours later Harry was woken by Twinky who announced that Sirius and Remus wanted to see him. Yawning Harry told her that they could come in, completely forgetting about Bill in his bed. The door opened and both Sirius and Remus bounded in.

"Good morning sunshine!" said Sirius cheerfully. "Get up, come on!"

"Oh my, what is Bill doing in here, Harry?" Remus asked, clearly surprised.

Harry started and turned around. There he was indeed, just uncurling himself and blinking lazily. Harry found that Bill looked still gorgeous, even if he was sleepy and cranky about being woken up, again. His long tresses fell onto his shoulders and back freely, and Harry noticed how different he looked without his ever-present ponytail but not for the worse. He blushed and quickly turned back to Sirius and Remus.

"Uhm, you see–," he started uneasily.

"_Weasley_!" roared Sirius furiously. "_WHAT_ ARE YOU DOING IN HARRY'S BED! You sick _bastard_! I _swear_, if you laid just _one_ hand at him I'll _KILL_ you!" He made to lunge at Bill but Remus held him back.

Bill yawned coolly and raked a hand through his hair. "What's your problem, Sirius? I just slept here."

"That _is_ my problem!" shouted Sirius murderously. "Let me go, Remus, I have to kill him!" He struggled, but Remus was certainly stronger than he looked.

Harry finally fought his blush and shock down. "He didn't do anything, Siri, honestly. Mrs Weasley made a huge ruckus this morning, and we both couldn't sleep."

"I wouldn't dare touch your precious godson," said Bill morosely. "I value my precious bits too much."

Remus smiled grimly; the knuckles of his hands where white from the effort to restrain Sirius. "Well then, we'll just go down and eat breakfast. Hurry, alright?"

"Yeah, okay," replied Harry.

"No! I'm not done with him, yet!" yelled Sirius. "I want to wring his neck and castrate him first!"

"After breakfast, Paddy, after breakfast," replied Remus as if talking to a child.

Remus dragged the almost one foot taller man out of the room. When the door shut behind them both, Harry and Bill sighed in relief. After a few moments Bill stretched and yawned again. Then he tied his hair together and patted Harry on the head.

"I guess your lovely godfather would have something against a romantic tryst," he said.

Harry blushed again. "As if you would want it," he mumbled.

Bill grinned. "Oh, I would want it all right. But it wouldn't be fair to you, now would it?"

"Why?" Harry asked, confusion showing in his eyes.

"You're too young, Harry," said Bill a bit more seriously. "And I couldn't give you what you want. I'm not looking for a relationship right now but I think that's what you would want, right?"

Harry grunted in agreement and fought the covers off that had twisted around his body.

"But you're so annoyingly cute and cuddly," sighed Bill in exasperation. "Some people aren't good at resisting, and unfortunately I'm one of them. For you I'm willing to make an exception, though."

Harry snorted. "As if you had a choice. Your mother and Sirius would rather kill you than let you come near me that way."

Bill grimaced. "Too true. Oh well, I can live with that." He yawned a last time. "I need a shower before I face Sirius. See you downstairs, Harry."

He left for his own room, and Harry sat back and thought about what Bill had just said. He was relieved that Bill didn't want a relationship, because he knew he could never really fall for him in return. Bill was open-minded, clever, all-around charming and gorgeous, but when he tried to imagine going out with him he just couldn't see it. Maybe it was for the best, anyway. Ron would have a fit, not to mention the overly concerned and loving Weasley family that would absorb him completely if he tookthat step.

Harry shuddered and got out of the bed. No, he would never go there, not with Bill, not with Ginny, not with either of the siblings.

Pushing that train of thought away he stumbled into the bathroom and took a quick shower. Now that this business with Bill was sorted out he actually felt much better. He enjoyed feeling the tremors of affection or the whole emotional jumble of _liking_ someone. But in this case sorting it out was better than running head first into a disaster.

Warm water washed his sleepiness away and tamed his unruly locks for a few minutes. When the soap foam was gone he stepped out and dried himself off quickly. It wouldn't do to let Remus and Sirius wait for too long.

When he stepped into the Living Room a wonderful breakfast was set up. He was alone with Sirius and Remus for the moment. Both looked at him inquiringly and Harry felt very uncomfortable under their stares.

"What?" he asked finally. "I told you there was nothing!"

Sirius snorted. "I have no problem imagining you with another man," he waved at Remus, "And how could I? But if I think about you and him – it's just not right!"

"I know!" said Harry, annoyed. "That's why nothing happened, and nothing ever will."

"I believe you," said Remus and poured Harry a cup of coffee. "Drop it, Sirius. I don't think Harry would keep something like this from us." He looked at Harry with a soft strictness that made Harry shiver. "Right?"

"Of course," replied Harry in determination. "After all I would want your blessing."

Sirius' blue eyes lost some of their heated glare. "Alright then. Now drink your coffee before it gets cold."

Harry complied. Remus' stare had reminded him how much those two were the parents he never had. Not even the Weasleys could give him that kind of feeling; the feeling of just being a child that had been reprimanded for something. He was very glad that they could make him feel that way, because when they admonished him he knew that they cared.

Harry was just buttering a croissant when Bill entered. He was freshly showered and his hair was still a bit wet. Remus waited until he had poured himself a cup of coffee before he started to tell them their plans for the day.

"Sirius and I have to go to Diagon Alley, too, so you're alone if you don't want to come with us, Harry" said Remus.

"No, thanks," replied Harry. "I would rather have a good look at our new curriculum and try the first few spells out. Besides, if Snape isn't totally pissed tonight I have an Occlumency lesson with him."

"Oh, yes, there was that," grumbled Sirius. "I hope Fred and George get him really drunk and hide his hangover potions. Snivellus has always been the worst back in school when it came to drinking."

"Well, it didn't hurt his intelligence, did it?" retorted Remus smugly. "Which I can't say about other people …"

Sirius pouted and crossed his arms while Bill snickered quietly.

"What are you doing in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked curiously.

"We need some stuff for the house," said Remus. "And some of it can only be purchased in Knockturn Alley."

"Maybe you will meet the Weasleys on your way," said Harry. "Oh, and can you get me a book about advanced trap spells? Your library hasn't one, Siri."

"Alright," said Sirius and smiled. "Well, we have to go now. Some shops in Knockturn Alley have the weirdest opening times."

Remus nodded in agreement. Harry grinned and wished them a wonderful day. It was still snowing outside, and knowing Sirius he would like to play in the snow like a boy, annoying Remus with throwing snowballs at him.

He and Bill watched with fascination how Remus disguised his lover for their spree. Today Sirius got long, brown hair and gold brown eyes. He looked like a rather fetching pirate, especially with the small scar Remus had given him under his left eye. He also dressed his lover in some old-fashioned robes that made the resemblance to a pirate even stronger.

"Wow, you look hot, Sirius," said Bill and gave him the thumbs-up. Remus growled possessively and pushed Sirius out of the Living Room. Bill and Harry laughed, until they heard the front door shut.

"Are you really going to train with spells?" Bill asked. "I thought you didn't want to spend your holidays with learning and training?"

"Oh, you know me," replied Harry sheepishly. "I can't hold still for very long. I need something to do. And we have a room where I can do magic, so why not? I like to do it right under Umbridge's nose."

"That cow," growled Bill. "We'll get her back for firing my father. I just hope someone who's more ruthless than him will get her."

"Fate is very just," said Harry wisely. "She'll get what she deserves, you will see."

Bill seemed content with that and continued to drink coffee with milk and sugar in liberal amounts. Harry counted Bill's fifth cup when they were done eating fifteen minutes later. In a blink Twinky cleared the table when they admitted defeat. Sighing, Bill ruffled Harry's hair.

"I'm sorry Harry, but I need to go back to Egypt today. Charlie is still sleeping I guess, so I better wake him up before he gets in trouble."

Harry nodded sadly. He regretted to see Bill and Charlie go so soon but he knew it couldn't be helped. They needed the money and they loved their work despite the condition of having to Apparate back to England every time they wanted to see their family.

Instead of worrying, however, he enjoyed the tour back to the second floor and to Charlie's room. They listened for a minute if Charlie was up yet, but they heard nothing. Silently Bill pushed the handle of the door down and crept into the room. Harry followed him. Bill seemed to consider it fun to wake his brother, but Harry had never witnessed such a scene and was keen to stay out of the way.

They arrived at the bed and peered into it. And really, there was Charlie lying, completely twisted into his sheets and covers and snoring softly. Bill snickered and rubbed his hands in glee.

"Now look," he whispered. "He hates to be woken with tickling …"

He crept even closer and then mercilessly started to tickle Charlie under his arms. With a loud, gasping yelp Charlie bolted right up in his bed, but the tangled sheets made him stumble and he writhed like a helpless worm under Bill's assault.

"Harry!" he yowled, "Make him stop!" He gasped and laughed, and Harry found himself unable to do something. Instead he just chuckled about Charlie's predicament. Bill certainly had fun.

"Get up you lazy sod," said Bill between chuckles. "You are late!"

"Wh-what?" Charlie wheezed. "Oh my gosh, you couldn't have woken me earlier, could you?!" He wiggled away from Bill and untangled quickly.

Harry laughed about Charlie's dishevelled hair and his current state of undress. Like Fred and George he seemed to like to sleep only in his pyjama bottoms. Now Harry was also able to see the burn mark Charlie had mentioned the other day. It looked indeed like a lizard in attack position and sat right on his left breast muscle. I t even wound up to his shoulder and simply looked cool.

"Wow, nice burn," said Harry in admiration. "But I guess it hurt like hell."

"It's worth the trouble if your lover can't take his hands off of you," said Charlie and grinned cheekily. "Damn, but I really have to go … you wouldn't mind waiting outside, would you?"

Bill and Harry rolled their eyes and left the room so Charlie could shower and dress in peace. After ten minutes Charlie joined them in the foyer of the first floor, complete with packed bags.

"Okay, I'm ready. Sorry Harry, I don't really want to leave you alone, but we have to go back," said Charlie regretfully. "But I hope you'll have fun somehow."

"I will," said Harry and smiled. "Don't worry about me. Just go back and greet your boyfriend, alright?"

"Of course. He'll be glad. He was really happy when he heard that you loved your birthday present."

"Oh! Ron told me that he was a friend of Krum, right?" Harry was delighted. "Yeah, I love the gloves, they're great. I don't even dare to use them."

Charlie and Bill grinned. But then they really had to go, so Harry opened the door for them. Bill and Charlie shrunk their belongings and put them in their pockets. After a last ruffle through Harry's hair they were gone. Harry could hear the faint noises that Apparating people made, and then he closed the door and locked it, just in case.

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**End of chapter 7**


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** _Nothing but most parts of the plot (save some references) are mine. The glorious rest belongs to JKR and her evil henchmen *hrhrhr*_

**Thanks:**_ As usual my thanks go to my wonderful beta Licelli who never tires telling me how to do it right :-) I also thank the readers who put the story on their alert and favourite lists and gave me such wonderful, sometimes really long reviews. It's good to hear from you ... you rock! :-)  
_

And now, please enjoy!

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**Chapter 8  
**

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Being alone had never bothered Harry much. As a child he never had friends to play with; Dudley had done his best to scare other kids away that wanted to befriend him. In the Dursleys' house he had never been allowed to do family things with his relatives. But seeing that he had always regarded them as mean he had spent his time alone, mostly with wandering the streets and avoiding his cousin and his gang or reading and doing his homework. The only kind thing Aunt Petunia had done to him these days was leaving the door of his cupboard open so he had enough light to read and write.

But now he didn't need his aunt to leave a door open. Light streamed through the big windows and he could basically do whatever he wanted. Happily he wandered through the whole house, now taking a first peek in Snape's room. It was orderly, almost boringly so. No clothes were lying around, and the desk was clean. The bed was made, of course, and Harry didn't have the impression that a full grown man had slept in there last night. Twinky was cleaning the rooms, of course, but Sirius' and Remus' room still looked lived in, not sterile as it did here.

Harry sighed. Of course Snape wouldn't feel comfortable in a house full of people he disliked. He turned on his heel and swept down the corridors, until he reached the library. He knew that they had found enough spells, hexes and curses to learn for the next term, but somehow he had the feeling that they still needed more.

Frowning, he stalked along the high bookshelves and read the titles on the spines of the books.

"There are just too many," he muttered. He then turned around and called for Twinky.

The elf appeared with a soft popping noise and looked at him expectantly. "What can Twinky do for Master Harry, Sir?" she asked in her high-pitched voice.

"I wondered if you'd know some really good books about curses and jinxes," he said. "We looked through a lot of books yesterday but I'm not quite satisfied yet." He took a sheet of parchment from a small table and handed it to her. "These are the books we're already through."

Twinky scanned the list with clever eyes and then nodded enthusiastically. "Twinky knows good books for Master Harry!" she squealed. "Twinky will get them for Master Harry, Sir!" She took off and collected books at a breakneck-speed. When she was done the table was full with at least twenty books and Twinky assured that they had very potent spells in them.

"Are they dark?" Harry asked suspiciously. "I mean, not that I care, but if the Ministry has a dark magic detector or something like that I'm in trouble."

"They're not very dark, Master Harry," replied Twinky and smiled widely. "The room on the fourth floor is shielding, Master Harry, Sir."

They grinned at each other, and then Harry took the books in his arms, thanked Twinky and went back to his room. He didn't plan on reading right away. There was the their own study plan awaiting.

Whistling, he climbed up the stairs. In one hand he held his wand, in the other the curriculum. He just hoped that the room was really magic-proof. If Umbridge got him for this one he would be doomed. But Twinky had assured him that the room had the heaviest wards and that all the House Elves of the Black family had put their own shielding magic in them as well. Harry trusted her judgement, she was the housekeeper after all and what would they do with a House Elf they couldn't trust?

He entered the shabby room, feeling pleasant memories about his and Snape's fight wash over him. When he shut the door the wards surged up and closed the room completely. He raised his wand and put some more wards up, mostly privacy charms and a spell they had found yesterday in the library. Hermione hadn't put it in their study plan – at Hogwarts they didn't have to hide – but he had scribbled it down on the edge of his parchment. He felt the spell merge with the original wards and knew that it had worked.

Harry placed the papers on the ruined table and raised his wand. He chose a binding spell they wouldn't be taught at Hogwarts. He would have to practice without victim, but he didn't want to hex Twinky, and they also didn't have a Boggart in the house right now. Then he had an idea. He quickly transfigured a broken chair into a cat. Even if it was a transfigured animal he still felt sorry for hexing it. He decided to keep the pain-inflicting spells for later and just stun the poor thing and try out the stumbling charm and all the trap jinxes they had found.

"Okay kitty, brace yourself," he muttered before calling out the first hex.

-------

It was past five o'clock in the afternoon when Twinky appeared in the training room. She eyed him a bit warily; Harry thought it had to be because he looked a bit wild with his wand in his hand and his overall sweaty appearance.

"Master Harry, Masters Sirius and Remus are back!" she said excitedly. "And they asked where Master Harry is."

"I'll go downstairs," replied Harry. "I think I did enough for today, anyway."

Twinky nodded and popped out. Harry stuffed his wand in the back pocket of his jeans, rolled the curriculum up and left the room. He was mindful of leaving his personal ward intact. That way he wouldn't have to do it again next time.

Harry ran down to his room, tore his sweaty clothes off on his way to the bathroom, and jumped under the shower. He just washed himself off quickly; it didn't even take five minutes to do so. He was lucky that his wand was lying on the heap of clothes; otherwise he would've used it to dry himself off with a quick charm. But he remembered in time and towelled himself dry with a large, fluffy towel. His hair was still wet but Harry didn't care. He yanked some new clothes out of his wardrobe, put them on and then ran down to meet Sirius and Remus.

When he entered the Living Room he was met with a sight to behold. Sirius and Remus stood amidst a mountain of parcels and already unpacked things. A wave of cool, unfamiliar magic crept over Harry's skin, and he involuntarily stepped back a bit. Apparently the usually warm feeling of power and welcome was tainted by the objects Remus and Sirius had brought with them. The scariest thing of it all was, however, that the foreign magic seemed to merge with the magic of the house. As if the things belonged to Black Mansion somehow. Harry stepped cautiously closer, looking at the parcels distrustfully.

"What is that?" Harry asked. He felt the beginnings of anger forming and he could only explain it with a feeling of betrayal. "These are dark objects. Why did you buy them?"

Remus turned around and looked rather guilty. "Oh, Harry, it's not quite like it seems."

Harry snorted. "As if! I caught you red-handed! I thought you hated all things dark! Especially you, Sirius."

Sirius turned around, looking rather satisfied with himself. In that moment Harry wanted to punch him really hard but he stopped himself in favour of an explanation.

"Oh, I did. But times change, Harry. You'll see sooner or later." Sirius turned to a carton and ripped it open. He took a beautifully crafted knife out of it and turned it in the light admiringly. "Look at this. It's a special dagger that has helped me a lot before I got arrested in Azkaban."

"What does it do?" asked Harry hatefully. "Did you slit somebody's throat with it?"

Sirius looked at him and grinned. "Exactly."

Harry felt the air leaving his lungs, and he could just stare at his godfather. Shocked, he saw for the first time in three years the man who could be a murderer if he wanted to be. But then Remus tutted and destroyed the clammy atmosphere.

"Sirius, you shouldn't do that to him!" he admonished. "Harry, don't take this too seriously." Remus glared at his friend. "That dagger has never drawn blood. But it works nonetheless." He took the dagger out of Sirius' hand and held it at his own throat. "If I said the words and then made that slicing motion I would be mute for three weeks exactly."

Sirius looked at Harry sternly. "I just wanted to tease you. I'm sorry. But I was being honest when I said that I slit people's throats with it. I silenced a lot of Death Eaters or people who had seen me. No spell or potion can lift the ban from the person. They just have to sit it out."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Harry glared at his godfather. "Don't do that ever again, or I'll hex you! I don't care that Umbridge will get me!"

Sirius laughed and nodded. "Understood. Now come and go through the things with us. Most of them belonged to my family anyway before the Ministry demanded all things dark banished. Of course the Blacks were under close scrutiny, along with the Malfoys and some other families you know too."

Harry opened a parcel and took a book out. In it were some absolutely horrid poisons and draughts, and he quickly put it away. The next thing was a mirror that bewitched every stranger in the house to stare only at his mirror image, lose their sense of reality and forget their orders. It was still veiled; Sirius had to adjust it to the Order and Harry and his friends first before it could be used as a protection device.

After a few minutes of unpacking Harry sat back and stared at Sirius and Remus. "I understand why you'd want your old stuff back but why are you so keen all of a sudden? I mean you hated your family and you hated this house and you wanted to be away from here," he said.

Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "As I said, times are changing. I hated my family and for what it stood. I hated the Dark because it made them kill and hate." His blue eyes looked at Remus, then at the unpacked things. "But now I'm my own person and can do whatever I want. And I want this house, my heritage, the money, my family and my mate. Nobody can take this from me." He slung an arm around Harry's shoulder and squeezed him lightly. "I want the dark magic back because it's part of who I am. I might have hated my family but I'm also a Black. And I like it."

"But you won't start to like Voldemort all of a sudden, right?" Harry asked suspiciously.

Sirius choked comically and then started to laugh, and he laughed and laughed and laughed until he had aching sides and was doubled over in exhaustion. When he had calmed down enough to speak he said in between hiccups and chuckles, "Oh hell, no! Never! There's no way I'm associating with that sorry excuse of a wizard! I rather thought we could use all these artefacts against him."

"Well, how good that you can find that funny!" said Harry testily. "But the worst is that you," he glared accusingly at Remus, "are helping him with that!"

"Harry," said Remus soothingly, "both Siri and I are strictly anti-Voldemort, and you know that. It's just … I'm comfortable with his heritage and that he wants to turn a little bit darker." He looked ashamed but also hopeful. "I am dark, too, Harry, my werewolf side is dark. Besides, Sirius is right. Now that his family is gone he can create a completely new generation of Blacks." He smiled gently. "I would like that, you know. He can make many things better than his parents."

"And I will," said Sirius, pecking Remus lightly on the cheek. It was the first public display of affection Harry had ever seen them give, besides that sloppy kiss in London, that is. "Now let's get that stuff in the basement. Harry, would you bring the books into the library? Be careful, the blue one bites occasionally, you have to swat it into submission."

Harry shrugged. "Sure, whatever. Just don't spend the next hour down there." He smirked when both Sirius and Remus turned a little bit pink in their faces. "And you can just say it if you want some time alone. I'm a big boy now."

Whistling, Harry collected the books. The blue one didn't put up much of a fight fortunately. The way to the library was very short. Harry put the books on a table and took a random book and opened it to pass some time. Twinky appeared while he read and stuffed the other books away. Harry was just glad it wasn't the book with the poisons and other creepy stuff. He thought that Snape might like it but Sirius would never give it to him. Harry thought that maybe this was a good thing, given that Snape was able to brew that stuff and poison them all if he so wanted. Nor did he need that particular book but Harry felt a lot safer knowing that Snape didn't have it.

After half an hour he had enough and put the book away. It was about time the Weasleys got back and saved him from his boredom. He felt too magically exhausted to train for another hour but on the other hand he was too bouncy to sit down and read. It was maddening. Sirius and Remus were still down in the basement storingtheir stuff and doing other things Harry didn't really want to think about.

Sighing, he got up and left for the Living Room. Maybe he could amuse himself with the self-playing chess game. Or with a game of Solitaire. But he had barely sat down for his first game when the doorbell rang. Harry jumped up and raced to the front door.

He was, however, mindful to look into the spying glass first, in case it was some really stupid Death Eater that wanted to come through the front door.

But there was the whole Weasley family minus Fred and George but plus Hermione standing. Snape and the twins seemed to be still in Diagon Alley which was completely fine with Harry. He opened the door and admitted the stream of people in the entrance hall. Sirius and Remus came panting up the stairway that led in and out of the basement and greeted them breathlessly. Harry smirked at his godfathers and Sirius had the decency to flush a bright pink.

Mrs Weasley manhandled her children and husband out of their clothes and into the Living Room. Mr Weasley said sheepishly that he wouldn't say no to a stiff drink. Sirius laughed and led him over to the bar. Mrs Weasley glared at them both but for once he refused to be intimidated by his wife. Harry guessed that the shopping spree must have been really trying.

Hermione, Ginny and Ron bounded over to the couch and plopped down. Harry joined them and looked at them expectantly.

"Well?" he prompted. "How did your search for a new wand go?"

"Ollivander had one," said Hermione breathlessly, excited to spout the news to Harry. "But we had to go through the whole shop to find it. It was so annoying. And you know that Mr Ollivander tends to keep the difficult cases until there's no other way. At least he was taking the old wand back and returning a third of the money I paid for it." She pulled her new wand out of her sleeve and showed it to Harry. "Here it is. Looks a bit … strange, don't you think?"

Harry took it and stroked along its length. It had a bright brown colour, it gleamed almost golden in the dim lamplight. And it _felt_ strange. Harry felt it with his magic, and then frowned.

"It feels a bit off," he told her. "Why's that?"

Hermione pouted. "Ollivander said it's a shared wand. I don't know exactly what it means, but I'll look it up. The old coot refused to tell me anything once he had his insight." She snorted. "Sometimes I have the feeling he's just as bad as Dumbledore in some ways."

"I don't know about you," said Ron smugly, "But I had no problems at all to find a wand. I waved a few and that was it."

"Lucky you," mumbled Hermione insincerely.

Harry suspected she was rather proud to have an oddity for a wand instead of something normal and uninteresting. Even if the wand's name implied that she somehow shared it with somebody else.

"What is it made of?" he asked interestedly.

"Well, Ollivander said–," she started, but then Remus interrupted her.

"What do you want to drink?" Remus asked kindly. "We want to have coffee, but I wasn't sure if it was okay with you."

"I'll take a coke," said Harry cheekily. "If Twinky has some, of course. If not I'll take juice."

"What's coke?" Ginny asked curiously.

"It's a soft drink," replied Hermione haughtily. "Bubbly and sweet and very bad for your teeth."

"Oh come on," admonished Harry lightly. "Why are we wizards? I have yet to see a modern witch or wizard who has bad teeth."

Hermione grumbled. "Modern is the word to go. The old hags in the Leaky Cauldron are really disgusting. I don't know how anyone can stand their teeth moulding in their mouth."

Ginny beamed. "I'd like to try it out! Can't you get some in Muggle London?"

Remus laughed. "We thought about it for you, don't worry. What do you want to drink, Ron?"

"'Mione and I are drinking hot chocolate," said Ron. "'Mione was really put out about the whole wand search and she could need do with the sugar."

"Sugar!" huffed Hermione angrily but didn't argue about Ron's choice.

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes and Remus snickered and left them alone to give Twinky their orders.

Harry was suddenly feeling very hungry. He had skipped lunch in favour of his training and felt his body demanding its food now. He wondered if he could sneak away to eat something substantial because cake or cookies were not the thing to make him happy right now.

Ron seemed to have equal thoughts because he nudged Harry and pointed in the direction of the kitchen. "Do you think they would let us eat something else?" he asked quietly. "Lunch is long over and I'm starving."

"Me too," replied Harry. "Come, let's ask Sirius."

He got up and strolled over to Sirius who was just instructing Twinky. Ron followed suit. Several eyes followed them, and especially Hermione looked positively disgruntled about their lax eating habits.

"Uhm, Siri?" Harry asked mock-timidly. "Ron and I, we are both hungry."

"Really? Molly just told me how you gobbled a whole menu down at the Leaky Cauldron," replied Sirius in amusement. "But I suspect you're still growing." He patted Ron on the back and then turned his attention back to Harry. "And what's your excuse, young man?"

Harry grinned cheekily. "Well, I lost track of time in your warded room, and then you came back and then the others arrived." He shrugged. "And now I'm hungry."

"Alright, I'll tell Twinky to bring you sandwiches. Or do you like chicken wings? We just found a delicious sort in a Muggle supermarket."

Remus stepped up to Sirius and slung his arms around his waist. "Growing boys," he said and smiled. "But I'm hungry myself, actually. You know we had no time to eat. Why don't we make it a mixed feast?"

Sirius grinned at Remus and purred contentedly. "Why not? I keep forgetting that I'm tiring you out sometimes."

Ron blushed furiously. "Now _that_ I didn't need to hear!" he said.

Harry just rolled his eyes. "You don't know the whole story. They hid in the basement." He snickered while Ron looked thoroughly grossed out. "Can they get any more childish?"

"Watch your tongue, young man, or I'll ground you!" said Sirius, flustered. Remus chuckled into his hair and stroked his sides slowly. When Harry wanted to say something about that Sirius cut him off quickly. "Yes I will, although I know you won't be going out of this house, anyway."

"Twinky will get the food for Masters, then," said Twinky and popped away.

Nobody really noticed her leave, but when Mrs Weasley called them to the table they knew that at least the drinks had been served already. Ginny was diving for a glass with brown, bubbly liquid and Harry grabbed the other. It was really comfy to sit between his friends like that. Hermione complained that the hot chocolate was still too hot to drink but Ginny crooned about the coke and took slow sips to enjoy the strange but obviously pleasant taste.

A few minutes later Twinky reappeared and started to set the table. Harry and Ron immediately grabbed some piquant pastries and sandwiches and started to fill their hungry stomachs.

"You know," said Ginny to Ron, "I have yet to see somebody who can eat as much as you do."

Ron grunted between two bites but ignored her otherwise. Ginny and Hermione just nibbled on some cookies, and over all they were pointedly ignoring Sirius feeding Remus titbits of pastries and little meatloaves.

Hermione scooted closer to Harry and stole a sandwich from his plate. Harry chose to ignore the theft and didn't berate her about taking things from other people's plates; mainly because he had nicked food from her often enough.

"They are adorable together, aren't they?" she whispered and giggled. "Awww, I'm so happy for them."

"You like it that they're snogging each other all over the place?" Ron asked, disgruntled. "I mean, yeah, but it's just so gross to see your role models actinglike that."

"What about your parents?" Hermione asked. "Don't they have the famous displays of affection around you?"

"Hell, _no_," shrieked Ron and turned pink in the face. "Ugh, the thought alone!"

"Now we know where that comes from," said Hermione dryly.

Harry thought that Mr and Mrs Weasley had indeed a rather platonic relationship when around others. But it was also clear that they belonged to each other; and their seven children only confirmed that. He shuddered at the thought of those two in bed; it seemed so unlikely!

"Did you ever hear them do the deed?" Harry asked cheekily.

Ron turned beet red in less than two seconds which must have been a new record and Ginny sighed long-sufferingly.

"No, never. They either place a silencing charm around their room, or they're just not doing anything." She smirked. "Who knows, maybe we would get yet another sibling."

Ron shuddered. "They better not! The Weasley fertility is legendary and I really don't fancy sharing my room with a baby."

"I bet you wouldn't like that," replied Hermione and smirked. "Besides, your fears are justified. Wizards and witches can conceive for a much longer period than Muggles. In the wizarding world even two men can get children. They just need a little help."

Harry frowned. "Why the hell is the Ministry so adamant on men marrying women then? I mean, if the gay people are able to get children as well there shouldn't be that much of a problem, right?"

"The people at the Ministry, especially one, are morons," said Hermione disdainfully. "Just look at the many laws that permit forced or arranged marriages. One would think we're still living in the Middle Ages. And Fudge does nothing to get rid of these laws, the lazy sod."

"Some people say it's tradition," quipped Ginny, rolling her eyes. "But a Muggle-born witch just recently sued the approaching family and won her case because she was, well, Muggle-born. The judge saw fit to refuse forcing her into this because her family swore that they would take action if he did, and an oath is never to be taken lightly, you know."

Hermione nodded. "I'm glad she got out of it. The thought alone is preposterous. Sometimes the wizarding world is so far behind I wonder why they're living in modern houses and not in clay huts."

"Oi!" said Ron loudly. "Not every pureblood family is so far behind. Mom and dad always told us that they wouldn't force us to marry anyone, and they would fight if anybody were to try claiming us." He shrugged. "I don't see the point of it, really. I mean, you don't know the partner, you don't love them and you have to produce a child … gross."

"Yeah, but someone like Malfoy or Parkinson are easy prey. I bet only Malfoy's father is powerful enough to tell others to sod off or else." Hermione snorted. "And we all witnessed how much the scion means to his father. He wouldn't allow Parkinson to marry him if she was the last woman on earth."

"Thankfully," muttered Harry, together with Ginny.

Ron eyed them suspiciously. "What _is_ it with you? You're jumping to the ferret's defence really quickly lately. Harry, please tell me that you don't have a crush on him!"

Harry was appalled. "Why would I have a crush on him?" he demanded. "Just because he happens to be one of the hottest blokes in school?"

Hermione snorted back a laugh at Ron's grimacing face. "Yeah, Harry is better than that," she said dryly. "He actually wants some brain, not just a hot body."

Ron scowled. "Ugh, you didn't just say he's hot, did you? I'm going to have nightmares for two weeks in a row, really! And then you, 'Mione! You're not only defending Malfoy but also _Snape_ of all people! Are you sick or something?"

"Well, I definitely see what Harry means," said Ginny idly. "I mean, for one, Malfoy's a blonde. Everybody likes blondes. Then he's filthy rich. And he's clever. And not to forget his sexiness." She smirked at Ron who gasped for air, face purple and eyes bulging.

"Now you see what you get for stupid questions," chided Hermione smugly.

"Stupid questions?" shrieked Ron. "I believe you're under _Imperious_ and ganging up against me to achieve some evil goal!"

"Imperious? On _me_?" Harry asked and quirked an eyebrow. "Everybody but Voldemort is bound to fail, and I like it that way."

"And Voldemort isn't near right now," added Hermione helpfully. Ginny giggled.

"That's definitely not normal!" sputtered Ron and gesticulated wildly. "Since when don't you hate ferret-boy and the greasy git! Harry, he spent most of his time at school to make our lives miserable, and now you're starting to defend him! And Hermione! Snape refused you proper treatment when that potion went haywire in fourth year!"

"That wasn't very nice," said Hermione in agreement, "But in the end I got something much better out of it." She waved her hand carelessly and indicated her face. "I got my teeth shrunken _and_ went on a date with a champion and international Quidditch prodigy. If I had to say something to Snape about that I would first slap him and then send him a thank-you card."

Ron was starting to rant again, and this time the adults looked at them reproachfully. "That's preposterous!" he shrieked indignantly. "He shouldn't have insulted you like that in the first place!"

Hermione sighed. "Look Ron, it's like all the things adults do from time to time. They put you through something bad and you'll get something better out of it. It's like your mother is telling you to save money for later and one day you'll be able to buy a house and some luxury. You'll appreciate it later if you use the present circumstances and possibilities to the fullest, even if you didn't like it one bit whileyou wereyoung."

"That's an odd comparison," muttered Ron, somewhat deflated because of her reasonable arguments.

"But she's still right," said Ginny and popped a chocolate cookie into her mouth.

Harry thought that Ron was right; no teacher should be allowed to hurt a student like that. On the other hand he could see Hermione's point of view. She was happy to have her large teeth shrunken and thankful for all the positive changes that came with it. She had a lot more confidence and self-esteem and she carried herself quite differently. It seemed as if the incident had set her rebellious streak free. When she had slapped Malfoy in their third year it had been a moment of rage and hate but the argument with Snape just before the holidays was the outcome of her righteous anger and long-planned preparation. She hadn't gone into this argument unprepared; it was rather the opposite. Harry could only guess what torment Snape had been subjected to. Hermione was not only right, she was also really scary when arguing with all her reasoning and logic.

"If you are quite done now I would like to eat," said Harry into the following silence and determinedly took a few more sandwiches and happily started to devour them. Twinky had prepared some that had warm chicken on them, and they weredelicious.

Ron followed suit and piled his plate until nothing more would fit on it. Hermione just rolled her eyes and started to sip her now drinkable hot chocolate.

Snape and the twins didn't come back during the odd coffee feast. Harry decided to take Ron, Hermione and Ginny up to the special room; Hermione wanted to try out her new wand anyway, and Ron looked as if he could do with a bit oftraining. Just sitting around was not his idea of relaxation or fun.

"Tell me, 'Mione," said Harry while he closed the special room's door behind them securely, "Did Snape go with the twins for a drink today? They're late, and I thought they wanted to go for a drink tomorrow."

"Yeah, he disappeared with them at some point," replied Hermione, frowning slightly. "I really thought he wouldn't. But they were really pestering him, now that you mention it." She quirked a smile. "He'll be late in another hour. Maybe you can skip your Occlumency lesson today."

"That's what I thought about the whole day," muttered Harry and grimaced. Once more he wondered if he should tell Ron and Hermione about his fight with Snape and the following accident with the Pensieve. He was really getting better with Occlumency, he could tell but maybe Ron would be grossed out about the whole thing. And he didn't want that.

"Oh, don't worry," said Ron happily. "Even if he's stumping you today, some day you'll be able to pay him back." Ginny made an agreeing sound in the back of her throat.

"Thanks Ron," mumbled Harry unenthusiastically. "Well, do you want to start, 'Mione?"

"Of course," replied Hermione and pulled her new wand out of her sleeve. "I told you, it's another kind of wand, not quite the usual thing. I'm a bit worried whetherit will work as well as my old wand."

"Try some easy spells first," said Ginny. She sat on a dirty old table, letting her legs dangle.

Sighing, Hermione complied. She first let a broken clock hover, then she summoned a mouldy plank. After a few other spells they had done in their DA meetings she stopped and looked at her new wand thoughtfully.

"And? Does it meet your expectations?" Harry asked. "It looked all right to me."

"It is," she admitted. "But it really feels weird. Different from my old wand." She handed it over to Harry. "Here, feel it yourself. Try it."

Harry took the wand and let his magic flow through it again, this time more intensively. Hermione had a point, it felt thoroughly different from her old wand. But also from his own. He frowned and turned it around a few times.

"I doubt I could use it," he said. "It's blocked somehow." He waved it experimentally and tried to summon a ripped stuffed animal. It trembled and hobbled a few feet in his direction, but that was all. Harry frowned even more and gave the wand back to Hermione.

Ron and Ginny looked more thoughtful than bored, although they apparently had this talk before in Diagon Alley.

"At least no Death Eater is able to use your own wand against you," said Ginny and grinned.

"And Harry's wand is too wide for most to use it, too," added Ron. "That's good!"

Harry started to pace. "You brought an important point up, Ron. We need to learn a bit wandless magic to get our wands back in case they can disarm us. 'Mione, is it possible to learn that? Or is it like a special ability?"

Hermione gnawed on her lower lip before she spoke. "As far as I know every witch or wizard of average strength should be able to do weak wandless magic. Let's hope that it works for summoning."

"Okay. I know it works for me. In the night when I met Voldemort and he punished Malfoy," Ron and Hermione gulped audibly, "I had to heal the bleeding of my scar with my finger because my wand was still lying on the bedside table. I hope it can be learned in the short time."

"Don't worry, Harry. We'll manage," said Hermione determinedly. "The DA is well on their way to practice magic without words. They actually do something for your lessons." She glanced at him and smirked. "I bet you'd be a great teacher."

Harry groaned. "Spare me, please. I don't even want to think about that. Not in this lifetime."

Hermione's infuriating smirk became only wider, but Ron looked very much relieved. Ginny giggled at Harry's mortified expression.

"Honestly," muttered Harry, "Do you ever think about other things than school and studying?"

"Actually, I do," replied Hermione smugly. "Not that I would tell you about it." She glanced at Ginny and smiled smugly.

Ron and Harry glared weakly at her. Harry and Ron were too tired to argue with her about that now, and Ginny didn't look as if she would enjoy serious bantering about Hermione's secrets right now.

Instead Ron and Ginny both took a turn at using Hermione's wand. They were even more unsuccessful than Harry had been. When they were done with their friend's new wand they tried out a few of the new spells. Harry guided them as well as he could. He was satisfied that his earlier training helped him now to help his friends.

But the time passed by far too quickly. After a quick glance at his Muggle watch Harry noticed that it was already quarter to eight. In silent agreement they left the room for the day and descended the staircases. Delicious smells reached their noses once their were on the second floor. Ron's stomach grumbled, although he had eaten just two hours ago.

"Really Ron, where are you putting all that food?" Hermione asked incredulously. "I saw you inhaling food, not even two hours ago, that would have been enough to last a group of four Aurors for a week!"

"I'm still growing," said Ron and shrugged.

"But you didn't do _anything_!" Hermione insisted. "You scare me sometimes. I think your mother gave birth to a bottomless pit, not to a healthy boy."

Harry silently agreed with her; on the other hand Ron was shooting up like a gangly plant, standing at a good six feet two right now. And he had a feeling that Ron wasn't done growing just yet.

"Why don't we just go into the Living Room and see what they'll have for dinner?" Ginny asked diplomatically. "I'm rather thirsty."

The others agreed and so they trooped down until they reached the Living Room and claimed seats around the large table. Molly was bustling around in the kitchen, apparently having an argument with Remus of all people.

"I wonder what Remus wants. Mom is really put out," said Ron and frowned. From behind the door they could hear Mrs Weasley screech something unintelligible and apparently rather rude, because Remus' voice answered hers rather heatedly.

"Yeah. Remus usually is content with whatever she's doing in the kitchen," said Hermione in agreement. Something in the kitchen crashed on the tiles of the floor and they winced in unison.

Harry pursed his lips. "I wonder why he even argues. He can do in here whatever he wants, being Sirius' mate and all." More sounds of the argument – it obviously was about baking some cake – were heard, and Mrs Weasley yelled loudly at Remus not to dare bring any of the ingredients into the house. Harry figured that she really had to be screaming to reach the others in the Living Room like that. "And if he wants to bake something he can do it if he wants to."

Ginny looked excited. "He can bake? Why did he never bake for us before?"

"Trust me, Miss Weasley, you don't want to know," said a silky voice from the doorway.

Already knowing who it was, Harry turned around slowly. And sure enough there stood Snape in all of his dark and menacing glory and sneered at them. Fred and George stood behind him like weird bodyguards. Seeing that they were a few inches smaller than Snape the effect was somewhat lost; however, seeing them so close in Snape's vicinity made Harry's stomach clench uncomfortably.

Snape took out an old-fashioned watch from a pocket of his vest and looked at it. His lips curled into a mean little smile. "I hope you haven't forgotten about today's lesson, Potter? It's, after all, in ten minutes."

"How could I?" said Harry sarcastically. "It's so much fun to have you poking around in my head."

Snape's mouth twitched as if he wanted to laugh evilly about Harry's response. He collected himself, and Harry realised with a start that Snape looked quite inebriated. His normally impeccable robes sat a bit askew on his tall frame, and the dark eyes glittered in obvious amusement.

"Don't go away, Potter. I'll be back in a minute," Snape sneered and turned around. Fred and George winked at Harry before they too turned and followed Snape, swaying and steadying themselves on each other while doing so.

"I think I just had the scariest experience of my life," said Ron, shuddering.

"He was drunk," said Hermione reproachfully. She pursed her lips. "Now that was something I never wanted to see."

Harry sighed. He betted his whole possession that Snape was drinking a Sobrietus Potion right now to get rid of the alcohol in his blood. He needed a clear head to torment Harry, after all.

Harry snorted disdainfully and shoved the sarcastic thoughts away. Maybe he could get Remus and Sirius to watch over their lesson again. He certainly didn't feel comfortable alone in a room with Snape.

Snape returned ten minutes later, a cheerful Fred and George trailing behind him. The twins immediately claimed the two seats next to Harry. Snape himself swooped down into an armchair and asked Twinky to get him a glass of water.

Just mere seconds later Mrs Weasley was bustling in, carrying a huge, steaming pot. Knifes and forks came sailing in after her and started to arrange themselves briskly on the table. She banged the pot down and went back into the kitchen to get the other things.

"Mmh, stew," said Ron happily.

Hermione groaned quietly and held her stomach. "Ugh, just thinking about eating right now makes me nauseous," she muttered.

Harry laughed. "You sound almost as if you were pregnant, 'Mione."

"Thank god there's no way," she replied and rolled her eyes. "As it happens, I know that we get anti-pregnancy potions at Hogwarts, in the pumpkin juice and even in our tea or coffee. Not that I mind, I really don't plan to have a child for the next ten years." She looked reassuringly at Harry. "I feel just a bit overwhelmed. We ate for twenty in the Leaky Cauldron, at least Ron did, and then there was the food a little bit ago …"

Twinky appeared and set the rest of the table straight. Mrs Weasley put a bread basked next to the stew while Twinky put a plate full with sliced vegetables on the table. After that everything was ready and Mrs Weasley sent Twinky to get Sirius and Remus. She disappeared quickly and soon the sound of approaching footsteps were heard.

"I'm telling you, she wouldn't let me do it," said Remus, the unusual sounds of consternation and irritation lacing his voice.

Sirius and Remus appeared in the doorway, quietly talking to themselves. Sirius grabbed Remus' hand and smiled grimly. "Well, do it anyway," he said grimly. "It's _my_ house, and if Dung can store his things in here you'll surely be allowed to–" He cut himself off when he saw the group sitting there, looking at him and Remus expectantly and obviously dying to know what the whole ruckus was about.

Only Snape didn't seem to be interested at all. Harry caught him smirking and wondered if he knew what that all was about. Which maybe he did, Harry thought sourly.

Then Mrs Weasley disrupted their inquiring stares and questioning and ordered them to take as much food as would fit on their plates.

Harry briefly wondered where Mr Weasley was since he was not sitting here anymore. He must have left while Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had gone up to the warded room. He, however, refrained from asking, in case there was a reason for his departure that would upset Mrs Weasley. Tonks and Moody weren't back yet, either. Harry wondered if they stayed somewhere else for the night or even for the rest of their holidays or if they would arrive sometime later.

Ron, who sat next to George, happily shovelled food into his mouth and gulped it down, barely chewing it. Harry felt secure between him and Fred and George. He was feeling determined tonight. And with every second he stared longer at Snape's sallow face his determination to squash his smugness grew.

Snape somehow managed to sneer at him while he ate his stew with perfect manners. Harry opposed him defiantly with eating like the teenager he was. If Snape managed to make him sick tonight he would make sure to do it on his shiny leather shoes.

Morbidly amused about his thoughts, Harry didn't notice the sceptical looks Hermione and Remus were giving him. Sirius seemed cheerful at the sight of Harry eating like there was no tomorrow. George elbowed Harry and gave him not-so-discreetly the thumbs-up. Smirking, Harry helped himself to some tea and pudding. He knew Snape wouldn't dare to drag him up as long as he was eating. Mrs Weasley and Sirius saw to that.

Harry made sure to nibble on his food until quarter to nine. Snape seemed to be calm outwardly but Harry knew better. The calculating gleam in Snape's eyes was telling him as much. Harry also felt Snape's unfocused Legilimency bounce off his wards.

Snape scowled darkly.

Harry quickly excused himself with the explanation he had to use the loo and bolted from the room, back into his own room. He extracted every important memory from his head and placed it into the Pensieve. Gone were the memories of the Malfoy Kisses, of their DA meetings and his discussions with Ron and Hermione. Then he locked his most precious possession in his wardrobe and left his room quickly.

Harry trudged up the stairs and went into the warded room, twirling his wand idly in his fingers. Now that he knew that he could defend himself with magic he would use his wand to its fullest. He waited for a few minutes, playing around with his wand and trying out to summon his wand from the other side of the room with wandless magic.

His wand just smacked back into his outstretched hand when the door opened and admitted a very displeased Snape, a smug Sirius and an anxious Remus.

"Potter," said Snape with apparently as much coldness as he could muster, "Your mangy dogfather wants to keep an eye on you at all costs. I do hope that you won't let him distract you." He eyed Harry's hand which held the wand suspiciously.

"Yes, Sir," sneered Harry.

Snape seemed to have prepared himself, too. It explained his unusual tardiness anyway. Harry had always wondered why Snape hadn't put his memories in his Pensieve _before_ he had come into Snape's office for their Occlumency lesson when he had started them in fifth year.

Only now it occurred to him that maybe, just maybe, Snape had wanted for Harry to become curious and stick his nose where it didn't belong. He would have had two motives, too. For one Harry had found out about his father being a stupid bully in school, and then he would have a perfect excuse to vent his frustration physically on Harry for being nosy.

Remus and Sirius moved to a wall and leaned against it. Harry felt grateful for their support. And it might be necessary that they were present, in case something happened again. He did not wish for it but he also refused to hold back tonight.

"Let's start, Potter," said Snape smoothly. "_Legilimens_!"

Harry gasped when the spell hit him. He held his wand out like a sword in defence and tried to work with his mind rather than his magic. The power Snape used to attack him was much higher than in the last lesson, at least for the beginning. Harry gritted his teeth and raised his defences. He wouldn't give up just now; he refused having learned so much about Occlumency in the last few weeks to admit Snape so easily into his mind.

With grim satisfaction he noticed Snape's irritation. Snape was plodding through his labyrinth, snarling and growling. Harry wished for him to stumble over one of his traps so he could throw him out. The trap mechanisms were by no means perfect, but for now they would do.

Harry's mind wandered to new ideas for his labyrinth. He thought of a few Dementors to scare lesser skilled intruders simply away, or raving Hippogriffs, or Manticores …

A sudden tingle alerted him to Snape's presence in his head. He had stepped into a trap. Harry knew he had done so purposefully, but he would throw him out nonetheless. The book about defence techniques had some very funny ideas for that. Right now Harry used the ejector seat principle. As soon as somebody would activate a trap, they would be barrelled out through such a seat. There was time for refining it later, right now it was just funny to see Snape stumbling back and panting slightly.

"I never thought your uncle was such a fat, ugly Muggle," said Snape and bared his teeth in a haughty smirk.

"Well, then you obviously haven't seen my cousin yet, Snape," replied Harry coldly.

"I told you to call me Sir," said Snape angrily.

"And I told you that you have to earn that," said Harry poisonously. "As long as you prefer to play instead of teach I'll not pay you any respect." He noticed how Sirius and Remus tensed but he ignored them.

"Foolish boy," snarled Snape. "Fine, be that way. By all means, use your wand Potter. You'll need it."

Harry gripped his wand tighter and braced himself. When Snape said things like that there was no questioning his sincerity. Snape's black eyes bore into him and the sneer was gone. Remus and Sirius watched with apprehension but Harry didn't even see them anymore. It was as if he and Snape were alone in a bubble. Just he and the greasy, mean Potions Master.

They stared each other hatefully in the eyes, waiting for the first, tiny move to start an attack. Finally Snape shouted "_Legilimens_!" and Harry immediately sprang to action. Instead of blocking the spell he performed a wordless disarming spell, catching Snape's wand while leaving Snape's incredulous stare with a quick sidestep. How good that Legilimency didn't work very well without the eye contact. It hadn't even taken two seconds to end the attack.

"How – what – that's not–," sputtered Snape, turning pale in a matter of seconds. When he finally gathered his wits he said: "You're not supposed to _disarm_ your opponent, stupid boy! Your real opponent won't even be in the same country as you!" A faint flush marred his cheeks and Harry felt very gleeful about Snape's obvious embarrassment.

"Yeah! Well done, Harry!" crowed Sirius excitedly. "Show the old snake what you're able to do!"

"We're not here for duelling Black. You're such an obnoxious brute," snapped Snape impatiently. "I just wish Potter would use his head once in a while. But as I see it that's not likely to happen anytime soon."

"He did manage to kick you out before," Remus pointed out carefully. Snape ignored him pointedly.

"I am a brute, Snivellus?" said Sirius acidly and stood up straight. He was a few inches taller than Snape, standing at impressive six feet and four inches. "I'll show you just _how_ brutish I can be!" He balled his hands to fists, and Harry had no doubts about who would come out of this as victor. "You and your stupid little mind games are a waste of time, anyway."

"_Accio_ wand!" said Snape coldly. Snape's wand flew out of Harry's hand and straight back to Snape.

"Cool, Sir," said Harry in true admiration. Wandless magic was not very common, after all.

"Now you resort to showing off, Snivellus?" Sirius asked condescendingly. "I didn't know that Harry's respect was so important to you."

Snape's mouth set in a very thin line and he looked ready to hex Sirius into next month, totally ignoring Harry.

Harry wondered if he should interfere. But seeing that he didn't have Snape's sympathies and never would gain them with such a stupid action he quickly decided against it. He would just end up in the middle. His own quarrel with Snape had been somewhat refreshing, though; maybe it would work wonders for Snape and Sirius, too.

"Shut your trap, Black or I'll hex you so bad that your stupid bint of a mother won't even be able to curse you anymore because all her wishes are already fulfilled!" hissed Snape venomously.

Harry rolled his eyes and then glanced at Remus. He seemed to be mildly concerned, but not overly so. A brawl like that obviously had happened before. Harry just wondered when exactly he was supposed to actually learn something. Sighing in exasperation, he watched Sirius and Snape going at each others' throats.

Sirius and Snape prowled around each other, growling and snarling insults. Both held their wands at their sides, ready to strike in a fraction of a second.

Harry inched towards Remus who leaned against the wall and had his arms crossed. Without looking at Harry he said: "Don't bother trying to get them apart. As much as they hate to admit it, they need their fights. Otherwise they would go crazy."

"It's the pressure," agreed Harry quietly, "but don't you worry that Snape will harm Siri badly?"

Remus actually smiled brightly. "Oh, don't worry about them Harry. Sirius gives as good as he gets and Severus is a more than adequate opponent for Sirius. Do you want to watch?"

Harry gaped at him for a second. Then he shut his mouth and stared at Remus incredulously. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Of course I am," replied Remus, completely unfazed at Harry's obvious disbelief. "You can learn a lot while watching them. They will, of course, not follow the common duel rules, but the curses and hexes they use will be more than interesting."

Harry chose to believe Remus and stowed his wand in his right back pocket. "I'm just wondering when Snape will actually teach me something," he muttered. "The last time I had my head full with Snape and now my teacher is going to fight with my godfather."

"Did you get rid of these memories?" Remus asked quietly. In front of them Sirius and Snape positioned themselves in fighting stance and snarled some more insults. Some of them Harry had never heard, even though he was living in a school full of innovative students.

"Not all," replied Harry distractedly. "I had no time with Ron and Hermione being around. Besides, Snape's memories concerning Occlumency are actually teaching me quite well. I thought about keeping them a bit longer so I'll be more secure when school starts again."

Remus thoughtfully looked at him. "I guess it's alright, Harry. But do try to get the ones about Snape's private life out of your head, alright?"

"Of course," said Harry reassuringly. He lowered his voice slightly. "After what I've seen I know his childhood couldn't have been better than mine. If I think about it now it was rather worse." He looked Remus in his bright, unusual eyes. "I feel sorry for him. Nobody should grow up in such a home as his."

Smiling sadly, Remus patted Harry's shoulder softly. "At the time Sirius and James were real prats. They had everything they could wish for, even Siri who was not on good terms with his family. The Snapes are an old family, as old as the Malfoys actually, I think, but Severus' father was not good at keeping the money together. He and his wife were always fighting, mainly because he was a Muggle and she was not." He turned his eyes back to Sirius and Snape who were hurling the first hexes at each other. "Lily was a good friend of Severus. There was a day when James overdid it to impress your mother. She hated it, of course. Ravenclaws were never ones for great shows."

_Except Cho_, thought Harry bitterly.

"After that Lily took her time to befriend Severus," Remus continued, "and she never regretted it." He leaned closer to Harry. "He may not be a nice man, Harry, but he is a wonderful friend once you have gained his trust. Do try to understand him, his life is not easy."

Harry felt guiltier than ever in his life. Of course Remus was right. Snape hated him because he looked so much like his father, maybe even because he had his mother's eyes and they reminded him of the lost friendship. Snape also hated him because he always jumped head-on into danger without looking out and considering his allies first. Since his first year Snape had looked out for him, life debt to his father or no, and he had never done anything else than elude his watchful eyes and cause trouble. And then there was the issue of serving a deranged monster. The constant threat of pain or even death must grate on his nerves.

Remus' face showed sympathy, as if he could read Harry's mind. But maybe it just wasn't too hard to guess what he was thinking about.

A loud shout redirected Harry's and Remus' attention back to the duel. Snape had just performed a spell that let four or five dark dogs emerge from the tip of his wand. The beasts growled and crouched to Sirius, baring their fangs. But Sirius just laughed haughtily.

"Do you think you can scare me with _that_, Snape? I don't think so!" In a flash of a second Sirius transformed himself into his Alter Ego Snuffles and attacked the boldest Grim, grabbing him around the neck with his sharp teeth. The beast yowled and surrendered after a few seconds.

Snape tried to hex Snuffles but he was too quick for him. Like a small army Snape's summoned Grims suddenly formed a circle around Snape and started to approach him. Sirius transformed back, standing behind Snape and ready to hex him into oblivion. But Snape was quick. He spun around, just in time blocking the Full Body-bind Spell. But now the Grims were attacking him, burying their teeth in his black robes. Cursing, Snape got rid of them with a casual flick of his wand.

"What was that dog-calling spell?" Harry asked with interest. "It's cool."

"Grimantula," said Remus and smirked. "An efficient spell if someone is very superstitious. Although I would have expected more from Severus. He of all people should have known that Sirius is not afraid of a Grim."

Harry laughed. "Yeah, Siri is _the_ Grim. It's no wonder he could defeat them so easily."

"You'd be amazed at how often he had brawls with stray dogs. That trains you very well." He snickered. "And then there's Moony. He likes to play with Snuffles."

"He's still in control during the full moon, isn't he?" said Harry thoughtfully.

Remus sighed, watching as Sirius punched Snape square in the face, just to get a good kick at his shin in return. "Not really. The Wolfsbane Potion keeps the urge to kill and harm at bay. And it's true that I keep my human mind. But some instincts can't be extinguished, for example the desire to run around and play. Sometimes I wonder if it's just me wishing to do that." Remus smiled wryly.

"Can you even be outside without the Ministry being alarmed?" Harry asked concernedly.

"During the full moons Siri and I are mostly here, spending the time in the backyard." Remus crossed his arms and looked at the duel in front of him. "Sirius doesn't mind. He played with me twenty years ago and I'm very glad that we're finally together again. The time where he was in Azkaban was just terrible." He glanced at Harry. "I thought he was a traitor but I could never really believe it. Nonetheless, times were hard."

Harry wished he could say something clever now, something comforting. But he didn't know what and hated himself for his lack of words.

Snape managed to hex Sirius with the Jelly Legs Curse. Unfortunately for him Sirius countered with a nasty hair growth spell which had Snape's eyebrows grow at a rapid speed and cover his eyes. His hair grew, too and soon reached past his waist and still grew further to his knees, past them and fell on the floor. If Snape moved too much his legs would tangle in his hair. It would not just be embarrassing if he stumbled but also rather painful.

"_Tarantellegra_!" roared Snape and hit Sirius with the dancing spell. It had a remarkable effect combined with the Jelly Legs Curse. Sirius danced around on wobbly legs like a weird crab, causing Harry and Remus to laugh mercilessly.

"_Vanitas_!" bellowed Sirius, gasping with the effort to keep his hand still enough to aim at Snape.

The spell hit Snape directly in the chest, however. Snape was engulfed in a bright yellow hue, and then a huge mirror appeared in front of him. Harry almost lost it completely when he saw Snape suddenly preening in front of the mirror, combing his fingers through his long hair and eyebrows. Remus giggled behind his right hand. Sirius managed to end the spells Snape had put upon him and panted for air.

"That greasy bastard," he said with some difficulties, "using both spells on me!"

"Black," said Snape in his usual cold voice, "every exercise you can get is a good thing."

"Why, you-," growled Sirius and pointed his wand at Snape.

Harry realised that Snape's hair was back to its usual length, as had his eyebrows. Both men stared at each other in contempt. Snape was visibly flustered that he had been subjected to a vanity curse of all things.

Remus' hearty chuckles reassured Harry, however, that there really was nothing to fear. The ease with which both Snape and Sirius fought spoke clearly about their long history of fights.

"We played enough, Snivellus," said Sirius haughtily. "Let's get down to business!"

"That's the first intelligent sentence I've heard from you today, Black," replied Snape, smirking unpleasantly. "I really shouldn't wonder why Potter is so daft …"

That was obviously the wrong thing to say. Sirius let loose a string of curses and hexes that impressed all three men in the room. Snape had a hard time to dodge and reflect the hexes. Sirius was clearly the aggressor and there was nothing Snape could do against it right now.

Harry had an impression of the fight against Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius' hated cousin, the woman he hated almost more than Voldemort. Only that Snape didn't sneer and laugh right now. Instead there was a tread of sweat trickling down his temple and he was slowly backing away.

"What's up, Snivellus?" shouted Sirius angrily. "Am I too fast for you? Come on you slimy bastard, _do something_!"

Snape bared his teeth in a furious snarl. "Feeling good right now, Black?" he hissed.

"_Severitas_!" yelled Sirius. All traces of humour were gone, leaving his face as an angry, deadly mask.

Horrified, Snape countered with "_Caleidio_!" and reflected the curse back in every direction.

Cursing, Sirius protected himself with the Protego Spell, Remus pulled out his wand, along with Harry. They both shouted different curses to stop the attack. After that was taken care of, the four stared at each other with wide eyes, breathing quickly.

Finally Snape pulled himself together. "Black," he said contemptuously, "you stupid, overgrown, harebrained, mangy _mutt_! I knew you were mentally incapacitated, but not that much! How dare you use that spell in the company of Potter! I might have killed him if it wasn't for Lupin." He was shaking with fury.

"Remus took care of that, didn't he?" replied Sirius casually. "And I saw Harry doing a good job of protecting himself quite well, too."

"You're such a dunderhead," snarled Snape. "I don't know why I'm even putting up with you."

"Harry is not a baby, Snape. I thought you preached that to him every opportunity you get?" Sirius smirked at Snape and fiddled with his wand idly. "Such things can happen, Snape. Every time. And you won't be there all the time to prevent it."

Snape turned white and pressed his lips together. "Potter is too stupid to watch out for himself," he said quietly. "And it won't get better if you're defending him all the time, Black."

"If you say so, Snape," replied Sirius and put his wand away. "Well then, I think the lesson is over. Come Harry, I think it's better if you're reading today."

Seeing that Snape wasn't about to protest, Harry shrugged and left the room. Once standing in the dark corridor, he felt somewhat relieved but at the same time strangely lonely. He closed the door behind himself and trudged down the staircase. He would do as Sirius had told him. He had the impression that he learned better from books than from teachers, anyway. At least for the time being. He just hoped that he was able to avoid Ron and Hermione for tonight or he wouldn't get anything done.

Feeling oddly contemplative, Harry made it to his room unnoticed and locked the door. Hermione would probably spend the night in the library - if Mrs Weasley let her, that is. Ginny was probably sitting together with Ron and the twins right now, plotting something against their mother or Snape, or both.

Harry sat down at his desk and opened his Legilimency book. He wondered why Snape was so shaken about the last spell Sirius had used. _Severitas_. He turned the word a bit around in his head, connecting it with words he knew. A lot of spells had connections to Latin or English words that he knew of. The most obvious similarity he came up with was the word severe.

He gasped in horror. Was that a curse to … severe … certain things? Maybe body parts?

Harry felt goose bumps creep over his whole body and hurriedly opened his book. Maybe it was a good thing that Snape got angry on his behalf every now and then.

While it was true that Harry could block most of the common duel spells, curses and jinxes he still was lacking in the Dark Arts area which was really no big surprise. If Sirius knew a disembowelling spell (because that was what Harry associated with the Severitas hex) he and Remus surely knew other, good spells as well. Maybe they would teach him a bit until school started again.

He happily found the page where he had left off and started reading. Tonight's chapter was all about subtle invasion and mood decipherment. How convenient, Harry thought, and a small, crooked smile curved his lips.

At night Harry built his labyrinth further, adding more memories and traps, bringing several dark creatures in and placing them strategically. If Voldemort should try to come and visit him tonight he sure was in for a surprise.

Harry smirked and finished his mind work. Now he actually felt some desire to pry into Voldemort's mood, although that could turn out very ugly if he wasn't careful. He snuggled comfortably under his covers, took his wand and held it lightly in his hand. Taking the most compromising memories out of his head, he thought about today's achievements. He then switched the lights off and evened out his breathing.

During the night Harry had caught some glimpses of Voldemort's doings. It appeared he had been alone, with only Wormtail for company. Harry didn't feel sorry for his loneliness. If even an utter bastard like Malfoy had a life over Christmas then maybe Voldemort should reconsider his aims in life.

----------

Whistling cheerfully, Harry climbed out of bed at nine o'clock and went to take a shower. Today was the day of his and his godfathers' outing. He had waited so long for the day to come; but now that it was actually The Day he felt awfully calm though very happy, and it felt just strange to him. Such serenity was rare on his part and he made sure to savour the feeling.

Harry thought that this must be one of the best days of his life so far. The water in the shower was pleasantly warm and his clothing felt soft on his skin and smelled of peaches and a faint hint of vanilla. He usually didn't like such smells on him but today it only heightened his already good mood even further. Ginny, Hermione and Ron poked their heads in half an hour later; just in time to see Harry slip a black, tight-fitting shirt over his head. Ginny whistled appreciatively while Ron smirked at her attitude.

"Don't think I won't continue to intercept your owls," he said smugly to Ginny. "Pretending that you like Harry all of a sudden won't help you."

"Ron!" said Hermione sharply. "You didn't intercept her letters, did you?"

With some worry Harry noticed Ginny getting rather red in the face, shaking with fury. "Uhm, Ron?" he tried to interrupt Ron's speech, but he was ignored.

"Not the first ones," said Ron, "But I can't have that git drawing all of Ginny's attention to himself when her family wants to spend time with her."

"Oh no," moaned Hermione in horror, "you _did_ intercept her letters!"

"But I didn't read them, of course," said Ron generously. "What a brother would I be if I snooped in my baby sister's things?"

"You are _so_ dead, Ron," said Ginny in an eerily calm voice. "Just wait until I get you and put my hands around your neck!" With a cry of war she lunged at him and punched him squarely in the face.

"Ow!" said Ron, more in surprise than out of pain. "What _is_ it with you women? First 'Mione is accosting me and now you!"

"Come here, Ron, I'm not done with you yet," hissed Ginny, pulling out her wand.

"Oh no, Ginny, you _mustn't_," whispered Hermione in fright. "Just think about Umbridge and what she will do if she catches us red-handed …"

Harry approached Ginny and gently pried the wand out of her hand. "If you want a good whack at his head you should do it now," he advised lightly. "Your mom is just starting to make breakfast. Be quick."

"Harry?!" Ron asked incredulously. "Why are you helping her?" He stepped back until he reached the door, not taking his eyes off of Ginny's fuming form.

"Sorry mate, but I'm definitely not getting involved in this one," replied Harry and smirked at Ron.

"Ron, oh Ron," snarled Ginny, "I'll _so_ flail you alive when I get you in my hands!"

Ron yelped and bolted – for the second time in a couple of days. Ginny stampeded after him.

Harry and Hermione heard Fred and George bang the door of their room open and curse at them for being so ungodly noisy. Harry snickered while Hermione fidgeted nervously with the hem of her tight, creamy white wool pullover.

After a minute or so, Fred and George had gone back to bed immediately after Ron had been chased off by Ginny, another door banged open, this time one floor above them. Still the faint thuds of something bashing against a wall could be heard.

"Oh my god, they must have woken Snape," said Harry unconcernedly. He watched in amusement as Hermione went rosy pink in the face.

"Weasley! Move your sorry ass away from my door!" cursed Snape. Even this loud his voice sounded still silky. "And Miss Weasley, if you want to strangle your dearest brother, press your thumbs harder into his windpipe. It would save us all some trouble." His door banged again, and a fluttery ripple of magic indicated he had used a silencing charm to get rid of the offending noise.

"Now that was some advice," snickered Harry. He turned to leave for the kitchen, craving some coffee.

"You are in a suspiciously good mood, Harry," said Hermione warily. "How come?"

"Oh, I don't know," replied Harry and smiled brightly. "It's just one of those days, I guess. Come, Mrs Weasley promised us croissants."

Hermione sighed and followed him. Breakfast wouldn't be for at least another half an hour, but seeing that they planned to do something useful with their time they made a trek to Hermione's and Ginny's room first to retrieve Hermione's latest notes. They wanted to use them later when they had some time. Harry shoved them into his waistband, knowing that they could straighten the paper out with a quick spell later.

"How was your lesson last night?" Hermione asked when they were descending the stairs. "Did Snape hurt you?"

"No," replied Harry and smirked. "In fact, I just disarmed him once and then he and Sirius had a nice, little fight."

Hermione rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I knew that would happen!" she exclaimed. "Why can't Mr Weasley or Mrs Weasley chaperone the lessons?"

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. "Honestly, 'Mione. If Mrs Weasley was in the same room and Snape were to maul me, what do you think would happen?"

"Oh, right," she grumbled. "But still. How are you supposed to learn something if they're always going at each others' throats?"

Harry grunted in agreement. Hermione huffed at Snape's and Sirius' behaviour and quietly muttered to herself about neglecting a student's welfare.

When they reached the kitchen Mrs Weasley was already bustling around, just as Harry had said. Twinky helped her eagerly while Mr Weasley sat at the table and slurped rather noisily his coffee from a large mug.

"Good morning," greeted Harry, together with Hermione.

Mr Weasley looked up from his newspaper. He had dark rings under his eyes and his sparse, red hair looked ruffled.

"Oh, morning Harry, Hermione," he said. Mrs Weasley put a plate filled with buttered toast in front of him. "Oh, thank you, darling."

Hermione slid into a chair and eyed the Daily Prophet distrustfully. "Did they write something new about the Ministry, Mr Weasley?" she asked.

"Yes, yes, they did," replied Mr Weasley, momentarily distracted because of a stubborn piece of toast that refused to fit into his mouth. "Here, have a look."

Harry and Hermione leaned over the Daily Prophet and started to peruse the headlines over the columns and articles. It took them only a minute, however, to find an article on page two that had them both sputtering in rage and shock.

"How dare they close the Department of Muggle Rescue?" shrieked Hermione. "And here, look Harry! They remade the Department of Muggle Artefacts, it's now the Department for Actions against Muggle Intrusions. I can't believe it! And guess who's the head of the department."

Harry, who had read the article too, sat back in defeat. "Malfoy," he muttered. He felt a lump in his stomach and it only seemed to grow. But this time it wasn't Lucius Malfoy. It was his wife, Narcissa.

"She never took part in any political activities before!" ranted Hermione furiously. "Oh, how I hate that bitch!"

"Hermione!" scolded Mrs Weasley sternly.

Mr Weasley sighed wearily. "Lucius Malfoy is currently working in the Department for Education and Society. I really don't want to know what he had to do to get back there." He looked at Mrs Weasley who looked rather disapprovingly back, then ran a hand through his hair. "Oh well. I had to meet the woman yesterday night; she demanded the desk and I had to clear it."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Now we have two Malfoys in the Ministry. Aren't we lucky?"

"We can only hope that Narcissa will mess up royally, otherwise our chances to get the lost positions back are slim," sighed Mr Weasley. "Moreover, Narcissa plays good friends with Umbridge."

"Oh my god," choked Hermione out. "I'm going to be sick." She slumped back in her chair and held her stomach.

"Now, dear," said Mrs Weasley, "We'll find a way to get Umbridge out of the Ministry. Dumbledore is doing his best." She placed two mugs of tea in front of her and Harry.

"What can he do if he's banned from the Ministry, too?" Hermione asked weakly.

"Let's just hope that he can hold Hogwarts this time," said Harry darkly. He turned to Hermione. "Do you remember our promise? We said we would make Umbridge regret her birth if she ever sets food into Hogwarts again. And I plan to keep that promise."

Hermione pulled herself together. "Of course I do." She scrunched up her nose. "And I would bet she'd try again, that stupid, puffed up, power-crazy, old–"

"Do you really want to finish that sentence?" a silky voice drawled behind them.

Hermione and Harry jumped, hearts beating rapidly. Oh how it remembered them of the day where Malfoy had said exactly the same words. They turned around and stared incredulously at Snape. Then Hermione's face set into a determined scowl.

"Of course I want to," she said tightly.

"Then don't let me hinder you," said Snape mildly and swept past her to get a cup of coffee.

Hermione fumed at Snape for a second before her gaze fell on the Daily Prophet again. Instantly her rage was redirected at Umbridge and her blatant leadership over the Ministry. "That bloody bitch!" she hissed. "I wish someone would just snuff her!"

"Unholy thoughts at this hour, Miss Granger?" asked Snape when he joined them at the table. His smirk was infuriating. "I never thought you had it in you."

"I have a lot in me which you don't know about, Professor," said Hermione coolly. "Besides, we just thought you might find it interesting what Umbridge is up to." She shoved the newspaper over the table with a bit more force than necessary.

Mrs Weasley sat finally down too and took a croissant and a boiled egg. "She's right, Severus. Rumour is that Dolores Umbridge tries to tamper with Hogwarts again. Kingsley told us just yesterday night."

Snape grabbed the paper and read the article. He frowned. "Narcissa Malfoy in the Ministry?" He snorted. "The Ice Queen is actually working, I can't believe it." He let his black eyes sweep over the words again. "I wonder what Lucius thinks about it."

Silence reigned the kitchen for long seconds. Then Harry recovered his wits. "You're – you're still talking with Mr Malfoy?" he asked.

"Potter," said Snape exasperatedly. "Lucius Malfoy and I unfortunately serve the same old madman. Of course we are in touch." He shook his head and folded the paper together. "Narcissa. I can't believe it." He took his mug and rose gracefully. "Arthur, I have a letter to write. Is Dumbledore informed?"

"Yes. Minerva is with him over the holidays," replied Mrs Weasley.

Satisfied with the answer Snape swept from the kitchen, taking his coffee and Mr Weasley's paper with him. Hermione and Harry looked at each other.

"What do you think he'll tell Malfoy?" asked Harry. "Do you think they're friends?"

"That's hard to tell," said Hermione softly. "I wouldn't put it past Snape to keep some allies. Who could blame him?"

"Now children, that's not a topic for the breakfast table. Come, eat as long as the croissants are still warm."

After a last glance at each other Harry and Hermione complied. But the worry wouldn't ebb away. If anything Harry felt even more dread well up his throat. The lump in his stomach made it difficult to eat the wonderful rolls and croissants. From the corner of his eye he saw Hermione pick at her food morosely.

The topic was squelched completely by Mrs Weasley when the rest of her children stumbled into the kitchen and Harry and Hermione couldn't take it upon themselves to spoil their appetite. So they sipped their tea and thought about the possibilities the new developments gave Umbridge and Fudge and, in the end, Voldemort.

As soon as Ginny had filled her stomach enough to survive until lunch she demanded that they went upstairs and 'did something'. Harry and Hermione complied gladly, dragging a protesting Ron with them. Fred and George who had picked up on Harry's morose mood jumped up quickly and followed them.

"But I wasn't done eating yet!" wailed Ron pitifully.

"Oh, shut it, Ron!" snapped Hermione. She dragged Ron by the arm and stormed up the stairs and into Harry's room.

Harry, Fred, George and Ginny followed her. Fred sealed the room against eavesdroppers while George locked the door with a short flick of his wand. They gathered on Harry's couch and nibbled on some cookies Twinky had left there a few days before.

"Okay Harry, spill it," demanded George. "Something's bothering you and Hermione, and we don't like to see you bothered."

"Yeah, talk," agreed Fred. "I'm sure Ginny and Ron would want to know, too."

"Know what?" Ron looked from Fred to Hermione and from her to Harry. "What has happened now?"

Hermione sighed deeply. "If you'd read the Daily Prophet you'd know. Anyway, we heard from your dad that he had to clear his desk for his successor last night. And now guess who it is. I bet you wouldn't guess right in a thousand years."

"Avery," said Fred immediately. "Or that stupid ox McNair."

"What's the name of the department?" George asked. "Did they rename dad's department, let's say like Department for and of Brainless Twats? Oh no, that would include the rest of Fudge's people, too …"

"They made the Department for Rescues of Muggles the Department for Actions against Muggle Intrusions. Can you believe it?" said Hermione bitterly.

"And who's the head of said department?" Ginny asked impatiently. "I don't want to play games right now."

Harry sighed. "It's Narcissa Malfoy. When 'Mione and I heard it we couldn't believe it."

"I can see that," muttered Ginny. "We saw her at the Quidditch World Cup, right?"

"She's a stuck up snob, just like the rest of the family," said Ron hatefully. "But I guess they deserve each other."

"Snape couldn't believe it, either," added Hermione darkly. "He went to write a letter to Malfoy senior. I hope this is something Malfoy has to choke on."

"His own wife wouldn't annoy him, would she?" said Fred. "But then again, we don't know a thing about bitchy wives, now do we, Forge?"

"No we don't, Gred," said George cheerfully. "But we will soon, hopefully." He sighed happily. "And I would allow Katie to be as bitchy as she wants."

"That's not the point," snapped Hermione in an annoyed voice. "The point is that Umbridge and Fudge are making a farce of the Ministry and everybody is just bloody watching."

"What can they do, 'Mione?" said Harry quietly. "Right now they can't do anything against Fudge. The next election is three years away. If he doesn't die or gets sacked spectacularly I see no chance of getting him out of the Ministry."

"Dying sounds like a really good option," said Fred and bared his teeth. "But we promised mom not to do something stupid."

"How can _that_ be stupid?" Hermione asked icily. "It's proven that a well-aimed shot every now and then hasn't hurt history at all." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And the best argument _for_ an assassination would certainly be the end of idiocy."

"I would rather let Fudge feel it when we attack his position," said Harry gleefully. "We can always count on Luna's dad and the Quibbler, and maybe Rita Skeeter."

"Only if we absolutely must," sniffed Hermione.

"Besides, what do you think would happen if Umbridge came back to school?" Harry continued. He stood up and started pacing. "Fred, George, your snack boxes were a live saver. And your fireworks, simply fantastic. Umbridge must be completely nuts if she tries to come back."

"Does anybody want to bet on that?" George asked happily. "I bet five galleons that she comes back in April."

"Five for March," countered Ginny, together with Fred.

"April," said Hermione after a minute of silent contemplating. Harry followed her bet while Ron betted on March, too.

"Let's just hope she won't try again," said Ginny wearily. "If I have to see her disgusting grin again I'm going to throttle her."

"Don't forget gloves," said George. "Her drool could be infectious."

"Ewww," said Ron in disgust.

"I think we talked enough about Umbridge," said Harry resolutely. "Who's up to some training?"

"Me!" cried Ron.

"Me too," said Fred. "And George too."

"Hermione and I, too," said Ginny.

"Good," said Harry. "Then take your wands and come. I learned a few cool spells yesterday night."

Harry led his friends out of his rooms and up the stairs, all the while feeling like whistling a merry tune. Even the news about Lucius Malfoy's wife in Mr Weasley's office couldn't lessen his good mood. When they were all in the warded room Harry closed the door and locked it expertly while Hermione used her new wand to put some strong silencing charms up.

"Okay, we'll start first with wandless magic. Put your wands on the floor, yes, over there, Ginny, and then come back here and try to summon them."

Harry put his wand down with the others and retreated to where his friends were standing in a line. "Now look. 'Mione told me that everybody can do it. Just try to get the hang of it, alright?"

They nodded. Hermione tried first to summon her wand but without it the spell didn't work. The next was Ron who had similar results, despite a slight twitch of his wand nothing happened. The same went for Ginny and the twins. Then Harry tried it and the wand flew happily into his hand.

"Okay, it is hard," said Harry sheepishly when they glared weakly at him. "But you'll manage. Try to use your index finger as your wand. It should work if you concentrate enough."

"Why are you so good at it already?" Ginny asked distractedly. She pointed at her wand and hissed "_Accio_!" over and over.

"I have no idea," replied Harry and shrugged. "But I guess I did so much wandless magic when I was too young for Hogwarts that I trained it somehow. You'll be able to do it, too. Just keep trying."

Hermione pointed strictly at her wand with her outstretched finger. "Accio!" she ordered. The wand actually rolled a bit in her direction and she crowed in triumph.

"It's harder than doing magic without words," complained Ron. "My-bloody-wand-doesn't-move!"

Ginny snickered. "You're too impatient, Ron," she said.

Fred and George fooled around with their wands. Fred cried "_Accio_ Forge's wand!" while George did it the other way round, crying "_Accio_ Gred's wand!" To Ron's great annoyance it even worked. Hermione just shook her head at the twin's antics while Harry was glad that they had gotten around to it so quickly.

"_Accio_ Fred's wand," said Hermione when the rolling wand hit against her shoe. It flew straight up in her hand.

Fred grinned. "Try to get your own wand, 'Mione," he said. "_Accio_!" The wand flew out of Hermione's hand and back to Fred.

"Oh wonderful, I can get other wands but not mine," she muttered.

Harry levitated her wand back to the other side of the room. "Try again," he said. "You'll do it, don't be too uptight. You're blocking yourself." He then left her to try and went to Ginny who had similar success with Ron's wand, but not her own.

"I don't understand it," said Ginny when he stood next to her. "I can get Ron's wand easier than mine! That's absolutely strange."

Harry raised both eyebrows, then used Ginny's wand carefully to levitate his own wand to the other side of the room, next to Hermione's. "Maybe it's a family thing," he said, offhandedly waving at his wand to get it back. With a sound smack it landed in his palm and he curled his fingers around it. "Now let's have a go at Hermione's wand." He pointed at it and said "_Accio_!" The wand struggled against his spell but rolled obediently closer nonetheless.

Ginny ogled. "Wow. Her wand doesn't seem to like you very much, Harry," she said curiously.

"Yeah, and I couldn't do magic with it, either," replied Harry. "I guess it's because it is a shared wand." He levitated it back so Hermione could continue. He then tried to summon Ginny's wand, and it flew back to him flawlessly. "Curious," he muttered.

Fred and George got bored after half an hour of practicing, thus Harry decided to move on to the spells they had in their study plan. He pulled it out of his waistband, smoothed it with a quick spell and opened it.

"We can start with the blinding spell," said Harry. "We have the counter curse, so who's going to be our victim?"

Ron declared himself willing and let Harry try the spell out first after a few turns against the wall. When Harry hit Ron with the curse, Ron stumbled a bit, then reached up to his face.

"Wow," said Ron in amazement. "It's like a blindfold, only I can't take it off. I see nothing at all."

"Thanks for being a volunteer," said Harry and took the curse off his friend. "Now everybody tries the wand movement against the wall, okay? We can't afford to wreak havoc, your parents would have our heads. Not to mention Snape's clever remarks." He grinned and the twins gave him the thumbs-up.

When Harry was sure everybody had mastered the spell and the wand movement he let them try out on him. Hermione stood ready to take the spells from him. Fred and George did it flawlessly, but Ginny's spell was too weak and he could break it with a simple "_Finite Incantatem_!" and Ron stuttered while he spoke the words, thus making Harry not blind but deaf. Thankfully Hermione's counter curse worked on that, too.

Satisfied, Harry moved on to stronger tripping spells, the finger-clamping spell and finally to the Grimantula Curse. He had wanted to try it out since he first saw Snape perform it. Maybe then Ron would overcome his ridiculous fear of the black dogs.

They managed to leave the room before somebody came looking for them. Sirius and Remus knew they were practicing but Ron, Ginny and the twins thought it safer to let Mrs Weasley believe they were just doing teenage things. Harry thought that the woman could be incredibly naïve when it came to her children.

After washing up and putting their wands back in their rooms they marched downstairs to the Living Room where the adults were already seated around the table. Dumbledore was back, smiling merrily and talking to Snape about one thing or another. Harry noticed Hermione's very smug smirk; Snape looked as if he wanted to murder Dumbledore for the things he said to him. Then Snape's dark eyes flickered to Hermione, caught her sneer and his scowl became even worse.

"I think they're just talking about my detention," whispered Hermione, smirking evilly. "And I think it's not going as Snape has planned."

"Lucky you," mumbled Harry back. "But I wouldn't push it."

Hermione sat down onto the couch and crossed her legs. "Oh, I think Snape needs to be pushed sometimes. Otherwise we would all be part of his collection of vile things in glasses, don't you think?"

"As appealing as that may seem, Miss Granger, you of all people should know that human parts are not part of any potion, save for hair and blood," said Snape through the room. "Not that I would have a problem taking it from you, mind you."

,,Aaaargh!" cried Ron and clapped his hands over his ears.

Harry and Hermione jumped at having been overheard by Snape but Ginny just groaned audibly.

"Not again!" muttered Ron, taking his hands from his ears. "If I hear that sentence one more time I'm going to _murder_ someone!"

"That's a reason but not a hindrance, obviously," replied Hermione smugly, ignoring Ron's whining. "Or do you want to tell me Malaysian shrink heads are part of a potion, Professor?"

Snape smirked right back. "Then you should be careful indeed, Miss Granger, Potter." He stared at Ron, smirking even more. "Weasley," he added as an afterthought. Ron visibly flinched.

Harry rolled his eyes and elbowed Hermione slightly. "We wanted to be nice to him," he whispered. "Let's start on him now, not only in school."

Hermione giggled. "Okay."

Fred and George, who sat next to Harry, winked. Snape stared at them suspiciously, ignoring Dumbledore's oppressive look. Hermione leaned over to Harry, touching his arm slightly. "I think I could start with another counselling session," she said quietly. "Knowing him it would freak him out."

"Keep the big guns for later, 'Mione," replied Harry, snickering slightly. "You have two months to wear him down, after all."

Snape's suspicion made room for his ever-present opprobrious stare when he saw them whisper. Harry couldn't really blame him; the pranks the twins alone had played on him were reason enough to be more than cautious and less than cordial. When Snape saw that nothing immediate was about to happen he finally turned his attention back to Dumbledore who had chattered on for quite a while without him listening.

"He was awfully cordial today himself," muttered Hermione. "I wonder why."

"Maybe he was just confused," said Ron and shrugged. "Anyway, I'm hungry."

"Smells like fish," said Fred and took his fork. "I hope mom let Twinky take the bones out. She never manages to get that right."

"Really," Hermione blurted out. "But she's such a good cook!"

George smirked. "Everybody has something they're not very good at. And mom's field of dishonour are fish bones."

Harry and Ron laughed.

"I wonder what Snape is unable to do," said Ron when he had calmed down.

"If you must know, Weasley, I can't mix perfumes," said Snape haughtily over the table.

"Yeah, or flavour your healing potions," added Harry just as haughtily.

"That's not a fault, Potter, that's my personal entertainment," said Snape smugly.

"Oh, right," said Harry pleasantly. "My fault, then."

"What is he, a vampire?" hissed Ginny. "I swear, we talked so quietly not even that Skeeter woman in her beetle form could have heard us whispering!"

"Maybe he has some Extendable Ears hidden," mused Fred.

"Or he's just fine-tuned to us," said George thoughtfully. "I wouldn't be surprised …"

"I wouldn't be, either," muttered Hermione, smiling benevolently when she caught Snape staring at her.

Mrs Weasley bustled in and slammed plates onto the table, making the others jump. Fred and George fought about the right to charm every plate on its respective place. Then Twinky popped in to bring the cutlery and the food.

Only then Remus and Sirius appeared in the doorway. Both looked a bit ruffled and relaxed. Harry bit his lip to suppress a bright grin. Snape sneered at the newcomers before he resumed listening to Dumbledore once more.

"How wonderful to finally see you," snapped Mrs Weasley when she came back into the Living Room with a bottle of Cola and a jug of juice.

Sirius regarded her coolly. "Nobody asked you to play mother hen, Molly," he said. "We have Twinky for that." He smiled at Twinky who curtsied, clearly flattered. "And if the children are hungry they can ask Twinky whenever they want." He crossed his arms in front of his chest and smirked.

Mrs Weasley's mouth opened and closed a few times but Sirius' short speech had rendered her speechless.

"It's his house, Molly," said Remus quietly. "Stop playing housekeeper when nobody asked you to." He steered Sirius to the table and shooed him to a chair.

"That's the gratitude for working myself up in here!" screeched Mrs Weasley. Her face turned a bright, unbecoming red. Harry felt his suspicions confirmed as to where Ron might have gotten his infamous temper. "Oh well, then I'll leave you to it!" She huffed and sat down, scowling profusely.

Ron leaned towards Harry. "She is so fidgety she is likely going to be caught handling a broom later, anyway."

"And she tends to forget that we're all grown people now," said Fred from Harry's other side.

Snape snorted not-so-subtly about that. "Mr Weasley, if we were all grown up we wouldn't have that conversation, now would we?"

"As if! She's still washing our underwear if she gets her hands on it," replied George, looking slightly affronted. "Despite our very own House Elf. She never trusts anyone with anything."

Mrs Weasley attempted to open her mouth but Mr Weasley was holding on her arm and shook his head quite strictly.

"We might have scarred her for life_,_" added Fred thoughtfully. "But be it as it may, it's just her mothering, nothing else. As long as she doesn't hound our fiancées we couldn't care less."

Mrs Weasley flinched.

"You haven't even proposed yet!" said Hermione, quite appalled at their forwardness.

Snape sneered. "Some bonds don't require words to be confirmed, Miss Granger. I would think Miss Bell and Miss Johnson are thinking along the same lines, pragmatic women that they are."

"Is that pride in your voice, Professor?" Fred asked genially.

"Hardly," said Snape coolly.

"Who would have thought," muttered Sirius quietly, running a hand through his black hair.

"We are, of course, expecting you at our wedding," said George.

Snape looked affronted for a second, along with Sirius, Ginny and Mrs Weasley, but then he smirked. "Really. I already suspected you would want to shock, but that much?"

Sirius, Harry and Ron snorted into their water glasses, spraying a bit over the table cloth. Instead of being a snarky git Snape seemed to be in an especially good mood today. He just regarded the twins lazily and traced the rim of his own glass thoughtfully. Dumbledore looked at their light bantering with his usual serene smile and that twinkle in his eyes.

"We don't want you as a part of the show," said George, fingering his knife idly. "We'd rather that you enjoy the show with the other guests. We are not evil all the time, Professor."

"You have yet to prove that point," replied Snape and sneered.

"Do we? Oh my, Gred, I think we forgot that somewhere along the way," said George, acting distressed.

"In that case we will have to prove ourselves soon," said Fred and winked. "And I have a feeling it won't be too long until then."

"Oh, the joys," muttered Snape, sipping his water.

Twinky chose the moment to serve the food, piling fish, potatoes and vegetables on the table. In less than two minutes the wedding, Fudge, Umbridge or Hogwarts were forgotten in favour of the deliciously smelling food.

Remus and Sirius held back during lunch. Sirius seemed wary of Snape's good mood while Remus kept staring distrustfully at Mrs Weasley. Harry wondered if he was still angry at her for trying to forbid him to bake. He probably was. Harry didn't know Remus as well as Sirius because he was less out-going than his godfather but he betted on his most treasured photo albums that he could hold a very long grudge if he wanted to. Moreover, it really had to be annoying to be mothered by a person who was roughly your own age, and did it in your own house at that.

Sirius whispered something into Remus' ear and received a sly smile in return. Harry wondered what they were up to. But before he could indulge too much into observing his godfathers Ron nudged him accidentally while reaching for the potatoes, waking Harry from his musings. Guiltily, he resumed eating, washing down the baked fish with a large gulp of Cola.

Lunch passed without a new bout of bantering. Harry just picked at his food, knowing that he wanted and needed his appetite later when they were going out.

Fred and George to his left were talking to Snape about their own evening out and the pubs they wanted to visit. Snape listened and threw the one or other location in, mentioning some cocktails Harry had never heard about.

Fred and George, however, seemed ecstatic for the tips. Mr Weasley watched his sons with slight concern but seemed not inclined to say anything at all about their plans with Snape. They were adults, after all.

The only one who didn't seem to appreciate the quiet moments of companionship was Mrs Weasley. She was still scowling and pushing her food around on her plate.

After lunch Harry and the others retreated once more to the warded room, eager to train some more until Harry, Fred and George had to get ready for the evening. The closer the hours got to six the more anxious Hermione and Ginny got.

"What's up with you girls?" Ron asked finally in exasperation. "They're just going to eat something somewhere!"

"No, that's the _Palazzo Italiano_ they're going to!" said Hermione indignantly, "A really good and exclusive Muggle restaurant with Mediterranean food."

"And I'm really looking forward to it," said Harry. "Under whose name did you book?"

"UnderSmith," replied Hermione and smirked. "Sometimes the oldest tricks are the best."

"Please tell me my name is not John Smith," groaned Harry.

"No, Henry Smith will do," said Hermione and winked. "But really, do you think some Death Eaters with family will spend their little time looking for you in Muggle London when you are believed to be at Hogwarts, coddled and protected?"

"I should hope they wouldn't," said Harry. "Will I have any problems getting in? I mean, they don't know me or the others."

"No. They know my family already and I introduced you as a friend of the family. That's why you got a table there on such short notice." Hermione flattened her bushy hair a bit, only to have it spring up again.

"Wow, 'Mione has connections," crooned Fred.

"I think you should get ready," said Hermione, glaring at the twins. "We won't get anything done as long as you and these two," she indicated Fred and George with a careless wave of her hand, "are hanging around and being giddy. Oh, and I put your Muggle money on your coffee table. It's in a wallet."

Harry glanced at his watch and shrugged. "Fine by me. Well then, have a good night. Thanks, 'Mione." He smirked. "And don't wait up for us." He indicated himself, Fred and George.

"We might just go to our own flat," said George wisely.

"And maybe take Snape with us. Let's see if we can get him thoroughly pissed, dear brother of mine," said Fred to George.

Harry waved at his friends, pocketed his wand and wallet and then slipped out of the room, closing the door carefully behind himself. Jumping down the stairs, he pondered what he should wear tonight. Hermione had recommended something formal, but not too uptight. Harry thought about his black slacks and a red button down shirt. Remus would disguise him again and if he asked for a bit longer hair and brown eyes it would look okay on him.

Humming, he quickly stripped, strewing his clothes all over the floor on his way to the bathroom. He would have a quick shower and then put his discarded clothes away. He was not the neatest person in the world, but having lived in a very small room for ten years of his life had made him a necessarily tidy person who put things away as soon as possible so as not to stumble over them and possibly break his neck in the process.

After he was finished with his shower he felt the first sign of nerves. He was antsy and fidgety, stumbling over his own feet during his way through his wardrobe (How he did that would remain a mystery to him, he really wasn't _that_ clumsy.) and while he was spraying himself with some discreet deodorant.

He pulled the trousers on, then socks and then the shirt. Harry believed this was the only shirt he possessed that actually was red. Only the Weasley jumpers could have the colour, but other than that Harry had heard from both salespersons and classmates that red just wasn't his most complimenting colour. After tucking the shirt into his trousers he belted them and put his black dress shoes on. They were shiny leather, something Malfoy would probably wear. Harry shuddered slightly at the thought. Not that Malfoy had bad taste, it just didn't sit too well with him to do something Malfoy would do.

"Oh well," he sighed, "All for the family." At last he put on a black leather jacket. It moulded around his shoulders as if he had worn it before. Harry liked it because it was comfortable.

Half an hour later he emerged from his room and went down to the Living Room. He had debated with himself forever if he should put on some jewellery or not and had finally, in an act of exasperation, chosen a broad, plain and matted gold ring and Bill's pendant from Egypt around his neck.

Upon entering the Living Room several eyes landed on him. Mrs Weasley got into a coughing fit while Snape sneered at Harry's choice of style. Dumbledore just smiled, along with Mr Weasley.

"Are Sirius and Remus ready?" Harry asked no one in particular, ignoring the stares.

"They left an hour ago for their room," said Snape idly, looking very pleased with himself. Mrs Weasley threw him a dirty look. "And if they're not swallowed by the bedspread they should come out at any moment."

"Severus!" said Mrs Weasley sharply. "Not in front of Harry!"

"Thank you ever so much, Sir," said Harry and smiled at Snape. This was a good moment to start being friendly.

Snape sneered back. "Don't mention it. The thought alone of Black and Lupin rolling in the hay keeps me entertained for hours."

"Wow, Sir, I didn't know you were so easily satisfied," said Harry, sounding genuinely surprised but meaning the complete opposite. Which Snape, of course, noticed.

Mrs Weasley seemed ready for another lecture, and not even Mr Weasley's restraining hand on her arm or Dumbledore's presence seemed to calm her down.

"Easy satisfaction?" Snape asked silkily. "Oh, I don't know. In my opinion one needs a certain amount ofblack humour and a healthy shot of masochism to enjoy this kind of entertainment." He smirked, black eyes glittering in the dim lamplight. "But then again I readily admit my fascination with the morbid and obscure."

Harry snorted back his laughter. Snape's way with words could be really amusing sometimes. He also wondered why Snape was so tolerable today. Maybe the prospect of lots and lots of alcohol lifted his spirits. Harry decided that he would look forward to obscene inebriation too if he had to live in a house with persons he really didn't like, so he let the topic slide and sat on a chair to wait for Sirius and Remus. They still had half an hour to go and he was in no particular hurry. Hermione had said that they would be there in about fifteen minutes if they took a cab.

Of course Mrs Weasley couldn't leave him alone. She carefully asked him if he really wanted to go out in this outfit, and every time Harry responded patiently in the affirmative_._ Snape was smirking his mouth off behind her back and Dumbledore did nothing to stop the ridiculous interrogation. After the fifth time Harry simply refused to answer her. He didn't need to feel like an idiot for babbling the same thing over and over again when it was perfectly clear that she understood him.

Thankfully Remus and Sirius entered the room only a few minutes later. Both wore fashionable trousers and shirts. While Sirius was going in creamy white pinstripe Remus had chosen the suede look. And they already had their glamour charms on.

Sirius towered over most of them, looking simply elegant. Now he again had dark blond hair. Remus had made his face a bit milder but left the eyes in their natural shape and colour. Sirius had chosen slightly tousled dark hair for his mate, and pale green eyes. The nose was slightly too big for his face but not out of place. Remus still looked good enough to be content with himself.

Before Remus could do mischief Harry explained to him what he wanted to look like. Grudgingly, Remus did as he was asked, although Harry noted his disappointed expression. A few minutes later Harry barely resembled himself anymore. He looked like a young Italian with his longish, curly hair, his still slightly tanned skin and the now dark brown eyes. Remus had also made his jaw quite a bit broader, his eyebrows heavily arched and covered his scar with Muggle make-up.

"Potter, if you could stay that way I might find you tolerable," said Snape snidely when Remus was done.

Harry eyed himself in a mirror. "I might find myself tolerable, too," he replied airily. "But it's too poncy for my taste. I wouldn't want to look like that forever."

Snape sneered and looked Harry over. "It will do for tonight, Potter. And behave yourself if you should come into the highly unlikely situation of running into a known Death Eater in Muggle London."

"Why should it be so unlikely?" Harry asked and raised his eyebrows. "I imagine that everybody needs a break. Even full-time Death Eaters." Snape stared stonily at him as if he'd lost his mind. Dumbledore, however, smiled encouragingly. Harry grinned impishly. "_You_ could certainly need a break, Professor."

"Be it as it may," said Snape. "I think your company is waiting, Potter. Now be gone."

"You're throwing me out of my own home?" Harry asked, more in amusement than annoyance, although Sirius bristled slightly. "Anyway, I have no time to enjoy your insults, Professor. Have a good night. And don't trouble Fred and George too much. And do try to keep your hangover potions hidden from them if you want to live tomorrow." He smirked at Snape and turned to go, revelling in the murderous look he received.

Harry led Sirius and Remus out of Grimmauld Place and directly into the nearest, shabby street of Muggle London. The two trailed obediently behind, letting Harry be the one in charge.

The wind was cold and blew into their faces; tiny snowflakes got caught in their hair and on their clothes. At this time of the evening not many people were out and about and they had no difficulties at all to get a cab.

The cab driver looked at them suspiciously, clearly wondering what three men, clothed in such fine fabrics, were doing here of all places. Harry ignored his inquisitive stare and looked at the man coolly. Remus and Sirius did their part to intimidate the driver.

"To the _Palazzo Italiano_," ordered Harry curtly. When the man didn't spring to action immediately he raised an arched eyebrow at him. This seemed to do the trick well because the man jumped and hurried to get the car going.

True to Hermione's words they got out of the cab fifteen minutes later. Harry paid the man, then he led Remus and Sirius into the restaurant, showing a confidence that he didn't quite feel.

Upon entering he was immediately swamped with scents and noises. People behind the curtain of the reception talked with each other. There was much laughter and animating music; it seemed a small band was playing live. Harry could also clearly hear the sounds of cutlery clinking or occasional steps of the waiters or guests who were going to the loo, perhaps.

"Good evening," said the receptionist politely. He was a man in the prime of his life; he was maybe forty years old, had uninteresting brown hair and brown eyes. His face was schooled into the professional face that was required.

Harry regarded him for a second or two, then he returned the greeting. "Good evening. We have reserved under the name ofHenry Smith." He looked at his watch and saw that they were fifteen minutes early, just as Hermione had advised.

The waiter, the name tag on his vest read Bob Pringle, bowed over slightly, presumably to have a look at his list. After a while he looked up again and nodded.

"Certainly, Mr Smith," said Pringle. "Miss Granger informed us." He smiled briefly. "But I'm afraid you have to wait a bit until a table is available." He inclined his head a bit. "It's like that during the holidays. I hope you understand, Sir."

"Of course." Harry smiled reassuringly. It was the first, true sentiment since he was in his disguise.

He, Sirius and Remus made room for other guests and stood a bit aside, surveying the offered drinks and nibbles on the bar. Obviously this restaurant had decided not to have a waiting room, instead the waiting guests could have a look at a small exhibition of local artists and make small talk with other waiting guests if they so wished. The reception room was certainly large enough and gave off a certain, distinguished charme.

After a minute or two a young waiter came up and offered them sparkling wine. They accepted, having nothing else to do than wait and sip the bubbly liquid.

Harry looked at his watch again. Sirius and Remus were talking to each other quietly and he granted them the quiet minute by stepping away slightly and directing his attention elsewhere. He started to look at the pictures that adorned the wall and showed landscapes of Italia and Greece; harbours, ships, houses, landscapes and, occasionally, sheep or birds. He liked them; they had a flair of summer and freshness that made him long for a good, long vacation there.

It was three to eight when he looked at his watch again. If they were lucky they would get a table soon and could relax. The ringing of the doorbell announced another guest and Harry turned slightly in interest.

But he really did _not_ like what he was seeing.

After a moment in which he regained his composure he dared to look again. No, it had not been a bad dream, nor was it a treacherous image of his mind. There they stood in all their glory: Fudge, Umbridge and, he couldn't believe it, the whole Malfoy family.

Harry hissed quietly and pretended to saunter back carelessly to his godfathers. He saw that they had seen them already, too. Sirius' working jaw and Remus' flabbergasted face were enough to calm Harry in the oddest way. A bit.

He quickly reassured himself that there was no way Malfoy could see through his glamour charms, not without using his wand. It still felt weird, he felt exposed and thrilled at the same time. To distract himself from the jumbling thoughts he directed his attention back to the newcomers.

Umbridge simpered at Pringle who seemed, to Harry's delight, rather disgusted. Fudge stood aside, smiling generously. Harry wondered what had made the Malfoys of all people come with Fudge for dinner.

"You'll see, Lucius, this restaurant is the best," said Fudge just in that moment. "Your lovely wife informed me of your tastes regarding Mediterranean food and I simply had to bring you here."

Umbridge smacked her toady lips in a show of delight. "Aah, it's a wonderful establishment, Lucius, really wonderful."

Lucius Malfoy didn't look pleased. Neither did his son, Harry noticed. A smirk crept upon his lips and he just barely managed not to snicker at their misfortune. At least they had managed to dress impeccably in Muggle clothes which he couldn't say about Fudge or Umbridge.

While Malfoy senior and junior both wore black pants, white shirts and grey pinstripe vests under their black coats, Fudge wore a horrible lime green pinstripe suit and Umbridge looked like a washed up version of herself while she resided at Hogwarts last year (Harry refused to call it teaching).

Her black skirt was too short for her thick, stubby legs, and the bright pink cardigan looked as if it belonged to the sixtieth. She had a horrible yellow bow in her sloppily cut, mouse brown hair and put on some make-up, especially around her small, mean, beady eyes. Harry thought that she should rather try without. The worst part, the part that made him unbelievably angry in less than a second, was her slack mouth that was now stretched into a sickeningly sweet, false smile. She alternated between clinging to Malfoy senior and Malfoy _fils_. Although Harry might have thought both deserved it he reckoned that _nobody_ deserved Umbridge.

But the most eccentric of all was Narcissa Malfoy. She was a truly beautiful woman, dressed in a black, tight dress Harry would like to call a 'widow's dress', complete with small, fashionable hat and veil. She wore a shiny fur coat over her pale shoulders. She could afford to flaunt herself like that, although it looked rather weird. The young waiter who had served Harry, Sirius and Remus earlier was back with the same offer, staring blatantly at Narcissa Malfoy's red lips and deep décolleté neckline.

"What a bitch," murmured Sirius quietly in Harry's ear. "She's an Ice Queen par excellence. I have to give Snivellus that."

"Why, she seems to match perfectly with Malfoy and their spawn," replied Harry dryly. "And my biggest problem right now is Umbridge. Do you think someone will notice if I drown her in the loo?"

They watched how the young waiter skulked around Narcissa. His attentions were thoroughly ignored by her husband, and Draco looked around, obviously bored with the company. Then, suddenly, Lucius raised his head a bit higher, stood stiff. Umbridge and Fudge perked up and looked at him expectantly. Feeling obviously caught, Malfoy said in a forcedly cordial voice: "Yes, what a delightful establishment, Fudge. I never knew Muggles could have such taste in decorations."

Harry smirked, but Malfoy's eyes were on him now. The man's staring became unnerving after a few seconds. He refused to retreat into the protection of Sirius' and Remus' bodies though. Defiantly he stared back, arching the already arched eyebrow even higher.

"What are you doing?" hissed Remus from the corner of his mouth. "Don't attract his attention even more!" They had changed their voices, just in case, but right now Harry could hear it dripping with Remus' concern, sounding like only Remus could sound.

Lucius Malfoy's staring made Draco stare, too. Harry groaned silently, pointedly staring back at the two. It was creepy how those two interacted! But he would not turn around, even if he was supposed to be a Muggle and act inconspicuously.

Narcissa Malfoy noticed her husband staring but obviously decided to ignore it in favour of flirting with the hopelessly infatuated waiter.

Umbridge seemed undecided between demanding to know why Malfoy was staring at him and watching the scene of young love.

Harry knew he really had stared too long when Lucius Malfoy finally stepped up to him, scrutinising his form intently. Draco stood by his side, almost as tall as his father but not quite as intimidating. With a start Harry noticed that Malfoy had his hair not combed back but rather put into a small ponytail. When had it become long enough for that?

Lucius Malfoy's nostrils flared a bit before he inclined his head slightly. "Excuse me, I noticed you … looking. Did we meet before?" he asked without preamble.

"No, we didn't," said Harry, "I certainly would remember if I had made your acquaintance, Sir." He was thankful that his now smoother voice didn't waver. His heart beat a mile per second and Malfoy's scent washed over him despite the richly smelling food just behind the curtain. He could feel sweat dampening his skin on his back, and heat rushed into his face. He was very grateful for the dimmed light that hid his obvious reaction. In moments such as this he knew exactly that he was only sixteen and very, very inexperienced when it came to playing with adults.

Malfoy looked more closely, eyes clearly searching for something. "Lucius Malfoy," he said. "Forgive my staring earlier."

Harry took the offered, gloved hand, astounded at how similar this was to their first meeting at Flourish and Blott's. The soft leather felt cool to the first touch and he noticed, quite appalled so, that Malfoy's eyes glittered ominously in the weak light. And that his hair sported some lighter streaks of white blond that he had never noticed before.

"No problem at all. I'm Henry Smith," said Harry, keeping his voice steady with enormous effort.

Harry felt Sirius twitch behind him. Noticing Malfoy's interested look, he decided to dismiss his companions. Malfoy would have to ask him about them; it gave him more time to think about cover-up names. Malfoy was probably too well-mannered to ask about them, anyway. Besides, it couldn't hurt that Malfoy might think of him as an ill-mannered person. He was just lucky that his racing heart was finally calming down from the shock of too-close proximity.

Malfoy was still looking searchingly at him, holding his hand longer than necessary. Draco noticed and raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Pringle, the chef waiter, cautiously stepped up to them and cleared his throat subtly.

"Mr Smith, I will escort you to your table now."

"Wonderful," said Harry and smiled. "Well, have a nice evening, Mr Malfoy." His contemptuous gaze lingered on Fudge and Umbridge who looked over to him and both Malfoys suspiciously. "It was nice to meet you."

"My pleasure," replied Malfoy distractedly. Draco next to him smirked slightly about Harry's condescending look at Fudge and Umbridge. The moment let Harry feel a pang of odd understanding between them.

Harry turned and shooed Sirius and Remus into the restaurant. Before the curtain closed behind them he could hear Umbridge ask Malfoy in her simpering voice what they had talked about.

Pringle showed Harry to their table. It was thankfully secluded and a bit away from the centre of the restaurant. Harry hoped Fudge and his guests would be seated at the other end of the room. He had no desire to keep down tonight.

After a waiter had brought them glasses with water and salad the tension finally melted. Sirius dabbed his sweaty brow with his napkin and glared at Harry.

"You're impossible!" he admonished. "You and your recklessness!" He glared at Harry, but then, suddenly, he smiled broadly. "I'm so proud of you! You handled it like a man!" He clapped Harry heartily on the back.

Remus scowled at Sirius and Harry. "They could have discovered who we really are!" he hissed angrily. "Malfoy already was suspicious, Merlin knows why, and then you just had to talk to him!"

"I was scared shitless," said Harry quietly. "There's no need to be mad at me, I know I was an idiot. But I couldn't help myself." He shrugged. "I tried, really." He didn't say, however, that he had only tried for a second to avoid the lot altogether. It had been too spooky to see all of his archenemies in a Muggle restaurant and right in front of his nose. It still was, for that matter.

Remus huffed and started to eat his salad. "If we see them again tonight do try to keep out of Malfoy's way, Harry. We mustn't endanger our disguise."

"I promise," said Harry earnestly. "Now, look at that gorgeous menu and order whatever you want. We came here to celebrate Christmas, not pore over enemies."

Sirius' face immediately brightened and Remus' face also showed sincere joy. Both made a grab for a menu and looked at the offered foods. Sirius made his choice quickly while Harry and Remus needed a bit longer to decide. A waiter recommended wine and took their orders. When he left Harry smiled at Remus and Sirius. It would be a wonderful evening, Fudge or no.

-------

When Harry, Remus and Sirius staggered up the front steps of Grimmauld Place Nr 12 it was early morning. The night sky was clear and sprinkled with stars. Myriads of them dusted the black, endlessly wide dome, making a spectacle of the calm winter night.

Their evening at the _Palazzio Italiano_ had been a success. After the first course and some wine the mood had lightened. Umbridge, Fudge and the Malfoys were quickly forgotten, especially since they couldn't be seen by them. The food was indeed delicious, the music was animating and becoming gayer by the hour and the drinks they had after the last spoonful of tiramisu were quite enough to make everyone of them light-headed and a bit stupid.

But the best was when they had been getting ready to leave. In the foyer where Pringle had hung their coats away Umbridge had made quite a scene. She was obviously full to the brink with wine and other drinks. She had flirted shamelessly with Malfoy senior who had hidden gracelessly behind his son and wife, without much success.

Fudge had just stood there, watching Umbridge out of his beady eyes, crumpling his lime green bowler between his hands. Harry had silently hoped for a scene, but Fudge was obviously disciplining his concubines in private. Not that it wouldn't give Umbridge a kick, he thought disgustedly.

The cab drive back to the big lane near their dark, shoddy street where Nr 12 was located passed without problems. Harry paid the driver and gave him a generous tip. Tired and exhausted as they were they somehow wrestled the key into the keyhole of Grimmauld Place Nr 12 and bowled into the house's dark foyer. Twinky appeared, fresh and eager as always, and took their coats away. Sirius and Remus were too drunk to do anything else than taking the glamours off with a hiccupped "_Finite_ _Incantatem_!" and stumbling into their room afterwards, so Harry let them go and fought his way up the dark stairs.

His sight was blurry, now that Remus had taken offthe eye-correcting charm whichhad been part of his disguise. He snorted in self-pity and groped his way along the banister. He was far too lazy right now to care about lightsbut too awake not to be annoyed by the lack thereof.

When he had it finally made up to his room and halfway safe into his bed, other things flooded his mind. The strongest memory was his brief, involuntary meeting with Draco Malfoy in the men's loo of the restaurant.

They had stood next to each other while washing their hands, and Malfoy had offhandedly commented on his perfume, even asked what it's name was. Harry had answered that he had borrowed a perfume from his uncle and that he didn't know its name. Malfoy had not been poking for more information but it was creepy all the same. If Malfoy was still able to recognise a scent under all the different scents in the restaurant he should be more on his guard when it came to disguising.

Still, Harry thought, fate had an interesting sense of humour. To throw them together at the unlikeliest place of all; to make him spend an evening in the same room with his sworn enemies Umbridge, Fudge and the Malfoys. In that order.

Sleepily, he revelled in Lucius Malfoy's annoyance at both the Muggle establishment Fudge had dragged him and his family to (that this had happened to Malfoy, Mudblood-and-Muggle-hater deluxe would serve Harry's amusement for quite some time) and the fact that Malfoy also had to spend an utterly horrible night with Umbridge of all people. It made his eyes tear up with repressed laughter. He couldn't wait to tell Ron and Hermione everything about it tomorrow. And maybe he could even shove down Snape's throat that not everything was out of question.

_Oh the irony of it all_, thought Harry sarcastically and yanked his covers up to his chin.

He just hoped the room would stop spinning sometime soon. Unfortunately Remus and Sirius had allowed him to drink as much as he wanted. He had looked quite a bit older than usual and they obviously had thought he could do with a good, stiff drink or three to forget about Fudge and attachment.

Harry smirked. Hadn't it been adorable how Malfoy had tried to hide from Umbridge? Wasn't it nice how Draco had tried to shield his father? Shivering in morbid delight, Harry wondered if Draco's love for his father was really so great that he'd throw himself in the way if Umbridge should try to accost him. Somehow he was thankful that he'd seen them tonight. It had made the evening a lot more interesting than it would normally have been.

With thoughts about the two Malfoys in his mind Harry drifted off to sleep, sighing in contentment. The alcohol in his body made it easy to just slip away, to finally give in to the lure of rest and peace. Soon after he'd closed his eyes he passed out completely, having the small advantage of being unattainable to Lord Voldemort tonight.

--------

Harry woke up really late. Weak sunlight shone through his windows and fell on his face. Groaning, he first tried to ignore it. Not because he was tired anymore but because of his pounding headache and parched throat. When he moved every joint and every limb was hurting. Moaning softly, he made it to the side of his bed, holding his head in both hands. Thankfully his silent pleading for mercy was heard by Twinky who popped into his room.

"Good morning, Master Harry Sir," she squeaked happily. "Twinky brought Master Harry a potion, Sir!" She pressed the flacon into Harry's unresisting hand, then she ran into the bathroom to fetch a glass of water. "Master Harry must drink that," she insisted when he hadn't moved when she came back.

Harry groaned. "What is that? Poison? If so I'll be eternally grateful to the person who saved me from a long and horrible death."

"It's a hangover cure, Master Harry," said Twinky. "Master Harry must drink."

Harry fiddled with the stopper of the flacon. Without his glasses and as groggy as he currently was he was as blind as a bat. When he had managed to open it he greedily swallowed the vile tasting liquid and sighed in relief when the haze around his brain lifted and the pain lessened considerably. Gratefully he drank the water Twinky had brought him.

"Thanks," muttered Harry. "Are the others already awake?"

"It's almost time for lunch, Master Harry," informed him Twinky.

"Oh. Okay. I'll take a shower. Would you tell them that I'll be downstairs soon?"

"Of course, Master Harry." Twinky curtsied and popped out of the room.

Sighing Harry groped for his glasses and slipped them on. He felt clammy and sweaty and terribly grimy all over. He stood up, looked down on himself and realised that he had slept in his clothes. Harry grimaced and started to take them off. Stumbling into the shower he vowed never to drink that much, again. At least not until he was more used to it.

He took his time in the bathroom, washing himself thoroughly and brushing his teeth twice to get rid of the velvety feeling he had when he swiped his tongue over them. Only then did he feel human enough to go back into his room, dress into jeans, shirt and a thick pullover. A look in his mirror confirmed his nagging suspicions.

He looked like death warmed over.

Well, thought Harry in amusement. At least it was funny yesterday night.

Whistling lowly, Harry slipped into his trainers and made his way to the Living Room. The strong smell of coffee tickled his nose already. He didn't feel up to eat something right now, but coffee sounded good.

He entered the room and marched over to the couch where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting. Not a second later Twinky popped up and placed a big mug of coffee, a jug with cream and a sugar bowl on the table. His friends looked up in amusement.

"Good morning, Harry," said Hermione after she had regarded him long enough. "How was your evening out?"

Harry added milk and sugar to his coffee and took a good, long sip. "Oh, it was wonderful," he said, letting just the barest hint of sarcasm creep into his voice. "You won't believe me what happened." He looked around, only now realising that no one of the adults was near. "Where are the others?" he asked.

Ginny and Ron instantly scooted closer to him, looking expectant.

Hermione sighed and put down the book she had been reading. "In the kitchen," she said. "Treating Sirius and Remus' hangovers. And asking them what happened yesterday. Dumbledore didn't look very happy."

"What happened, mate? What happened?" Ron asked excitedly. "Did You-Know-Who appear?"

Harry almost choked on his coffee. "Not quite so drastic," he said, coughing. "But you still won't believe me. Harry looked around and then scooted a bit closer to his friends. "It was … funny. We arrived there and waited to get a table and suddenly Fudge comes in."

"_Fudge_?" squeaked Hermione, flabbergasted.

"And Umbridge," said Harry, feeling smug to get that reaction.

"_UMBRIDGE_?!" thundered Ron. "That stupid bitch was there?"

"_And_ …," said Harry, gathering some air for the last shoe to drop.

"There's _more_?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Much more," replied Harry, grinning impishly. Oh, his friends would love this.

"Stop rambling and tell us already," snapped Hermione impatiently. Her hands were curled to small fists.

"With Fudge and Umbridge were the _Malfoys_," announced Harry proudly. "In _Muggle_ clothes."

The reactions were interesting, to say the least. Ron was turning brick red and gaped like a fish out of water. Ginny, opposing Ron, became deathly pale. And Hermione was a funny mix of both, she was pale and shaking, red, feverish spots danced on her cheeks, but she was not gaping. Instead she bit her lower lip and stared at Harry in both fury and worry.

"How-why," stammered Ron when he got his bearings back. "I mean, why _there_ of all places?"

"And _Umbridge_!" squealed Ginny, terrified.

"Why didn't you come back?" Hermione demanded to know. "It was dangerous!"

"It would have looked even more suspicious if we had done that," said Harry, shrugging. "Malfoy and I had a little talk and–"

"_YOU WHAT_?!" roared Hermione. Harry shrank back slightly. "Why! What about!"

"He was just staring at me and asked if we have met before," replied Harry, smoothing his hair absently. "Nothing serious, really." Three pairs of eyes stared at him as if he had just gone mad. "Look," said Harry impatiently when no one made a move to talk to him, "it was just a stupid accident. Nobody recognised us and everything went well. Don't worry."

The door leading to the kitchen suddenly opened and a whole trek of people wandered in. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Dumbledore, Remus, Sirius and McGonagall seated themselves on the couch and armchairs, looking at them sternly. Harry stared back. Finally Dumbledore sighed and broke the uncomfortable silence.

"Well, as we all now know," he said gravely, "Sirius, Remus and Harry had indeed a run-in with some important people yesterday."

Sirius snorted. "Important my arse," he scoffed. "He is a bloody Death Eater, and his wife is too, and you know it!"

"Sirius, now is not the right time for swearing," admonished Dumbledore lightly. "However, I believe Severus will be quite put out when he hears about your little adventure." Mrs Weasley and Hermione both scoffed rather audibly. "I must admit none of us knew about Fudge's plans for yesterday night."

"The worst part were not the Malfoys," Harry threw in helpfully. "Umbridge was."

Mr Weasley's mouth tightened into a hard line. "I really want to know what she wanted with Lucius Malfoy," he said sourly.

Sirius sneered. "At least the bastard didn't enjoy it."

"That I can believe," said McGonagall dryly. "His dislike for Muggles is quite obvious."

"And then Umbridge tried to molest him," said Harry gleefully. "Fudge was jealous, wasn't he, Sirius?"

"As macabre as it sounds," admitted Sirius weakly. "It could be that Fudge actually has taken a liking to Umbridge."

"Macabre? It's downright vile," muttered Ron. Ginny and Harry nodded vehemently in agreement while Hermione looked so angry Harry feared she'd rip her book to shreds.

"I don't like this one bit," said McGonagall, sounding suddenly tired. "We never knew Fudge had relations so … intimate with the Malfoys."

"I bet the Malfoys didn't know either," muttered Harry. Thankfully no one paid him any mind.

Dumbledore conjured himself a cup of tea. Turning it around in his old, gnarled hands he looked at each of them. "Now I think we have something new to think about," he said airily. Half the room snorted at that. "Arthur, please inform Tonks and Alastor of these occurrences. And ask Kingsley for news."

"Of course, Albus." Mr Weasley rose and left the room.

"Molly, please contact Bill and Charlie and ask them to keep their eyes and ears open. Charlie could owl Mr Krum about the latest news from Durmstrang and the Ministry."

"Certainly," said Mrs Weasley and left through another door.

"Minerva, please inform the rest of the Hogwarts staff. They shall also look out for news."

McGonagall nodded and rose brusquely. "I shall mirror-call Filius at once. He can inform the others."

Dumbledore nodded and waited until she had left. Then he looked at the remaining occupants of the room. "Harry, Sirius, Remus, you need to tell me everything that has happened yesterday. You must tell me about every word they have spoken. It might prove important."

Sirius groaned slightly. "I hate this part of our meetings," he grumbled.

Remus swatted him lightly. "Well then. We arrived at the restaurant and waited for our table to be cleared. Shortly before the waiter seated us Fudge, Umbridge and Lucius, Narcissa and Draco Malfoy entered–"

"I still can't believe that Malfoy voluntarily stepped into a Muggle establishment," said Ron sourly.

"Well, he looked rather forced," replied Harry.

"-and Harry here had nothing better to do than stare at Malfoy senior," continued Remus, pointedly ignoring the chatter of Harry and Ron.

"It was not my fault," said Harry indignantly. "It was too good to see him suffer."

"Anyway, Malfoy and his son came over and asked if they had met," said Remus, giving Harry a disapproving look. "He looked a bit … off."

"Yeah, as if he was doubting the word of a stranger," added Sirius sarcastically. "Gods, he could have the same Harry-detector Snivellus has."

Dumbledore chortled. "So Lucius Malfoy was thrown off by you, Harry. That's interesting. And during your enjoyable meal? Did anything happen?"

Sirius and Remus looked at each other, then shook their heads. Then Sirius perked up. "Oh, Harry went to the loo once. Ask him if there was something interesting."

"Harry?" Dumbledore gave Harry a look over his half moon-shaped spectacles.

Harry squirmed, remembering the surreal encounter of politeness and that strange mix of aloofness and interest. "Oh well, fine. I met Draco there. He did nothing, just asked me about my perfume. I swear it was damn creepy!" Saying Malfoy's first name felt really strange, Harry thought, and he quickly decided not to do it again in the near future.

Hermione, Ron and Ginny were speechless. Sirius and Remus both raised their eyebrows and even Dumbledore looked stunned for the better part of a second.

"He-he asked about your perfume?" Ginny asked shakily. "You have put on some, didn't you?"

"Deodorant spray," said Harry, crossing his arms.

Ron's eyebrows furrowed. "During last term Malfoy asked about Harry's perfume awfully often. And in school Harry almost never wears any."

"Cross out 'almost' and we're on the right track," grumbled Harry. "But I doubt he would ask me all of a sudden about some random scent spray."

Ginny scowled. "I don't like that one bit. What if Malfoy has some freaky power that allows him to smell Harry out? If he had recognised the scent Harry's cover would've been blown."

"_Freaky powers_," snapped Hermione. "How likely is that, please? They were in Muggle London and in a restaurant they've never been to before. I bet Malfoy just smelled something he liked and that's all."

Dumbledore put his teacup down and cleared his throat. "I'm sure Hermione is right," he said gently. "But if Mr Malfoy should bother you again with that, Harry, let me know it."

"Of course, Sir," replied Harry sarcastically. Of course he would do no such thing. "This is ridiculous," he mouthed to Ron who nodded glumly in response. Sirius and Remus both smirked at Harry.

Dumbledore let his teacup vanish and rose from his seat. "Well then, I'll leave you to your homework, children. I'm sure you have yet to do it. Sirius, Remus, I think you'd love to be present when Severus arrives."

Sirius and Remus both jumped up, their eyes alight with mischief. Harry wondered if they had revenge planned for the way Snape had talked about them last night.

Hermione rolled her eyes when Ron started to make big puppy dog eyes at her. "Before you even ask, yes, I'll look through them, but no, no help beforehand. You have a whole library at your disposal, do something yourself."

Dumbledore chuckled and glided out of the room with Remus and Sirius closely following, shutting the door gently after them.

Ginny and Harry ignored Ron's pleading and went to get their things for their homework. Now that the Living Room was completely deserted they could strew their things about the place without having to fear any reprimands. Not that Sirius would reprimand them; if they were alone in the house, without the Order, Harry betted anything he possessed that he could do whatever he wanted.

When they were back Hermione had already gone back to reading her book. Harry decided that he should read more, too. His cramming sessions with Hermione proved that he could do more if he wanted. And somehow it started to feel shallow to be only good at DADA and maybe Charms.

Ginny burrowed herself in her Transfiguration homework while Ron moaned and bitched about an essay Snape had given him. Harry had one, too, but he didn't find the topic too difficult. Sirius had some good books in his library and the topic had been taught in school already. Besides, strengthening potions were quite interesting, if only for their purpose. Right now Harry decided to work on Flitwick's essay, though. It was easier and he understood the topic.

When everybody was settled and working a comfortable, studious silence fell over the room. Every now and then the rustle of a book page being turned was heard, or the occasional dip when somebody refilled their quill with ink.

Time passed quickly. Harry didn't even notice that they missed lunch; his roiling stomach made quite clear that it didn't want to be bothered with food today, anyway. Only when a door banged and Mrs Black suddenly started to make a huge, bone-chilling ruckus the silence was disturbed.

"_TRAITORS! BEASTS! THOSE WHO DISHONOUR THE OLD HOUSE OF BLACK SHALL DIE A HORRIBLE, PAINFUL DEATH_!" shrieked Mrs Black.

Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron looked apprehensively at the closed door, trying to figure out who had just arrived and woken the portrait.

"KREACHER! SLAUGHTER THESE WORMS AND BURY THEM IN THE BASEMENT! _Feed our Ghoul, make a rattle of their bones_–"

"_SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU OLD, DESPICABLE, UGLY HAG_!" Sirius' voice was, if possible, even louder than that of his mother. The door banged again, and then it was silent. Someone with a kind heart apparently had put the veil back over Mrs Black's picture frame.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. It was, however, short-lived because the door to the Living Room crashed open and a more than irate Snape stood in the frame, heaving and looking positively lethal. Harry, Ron and Ginny jumped as if they had been just caught red-handed in Snape's personal potions supply closet.

"_Potter, you - how could you - I knew all along that_–," ranted Snape without making much sense. His hair and cloak were askew and his usually sallow cheeks were flushed. Harry had never seen him so angry, not even after he'd spied in Snape's Pensieve last year.

"Yes, Professor?" said Harry politely. His heart was still hammering like crazy and he didn't like that look in Snape's eyes one bit, but he also refused to be intimated when he had done nothing terribly wrong. "It would be advisable to calm down, so I can understand what you're saying."

Ron and Ginny gaped while Hermione tried to hide a smirk. Snape took a few deep breaths and then stalked into the room, taking position in front of Harry and his messy mountain of half-finished essays.

Taking a final breath, Snape started his lecture. "_Potter_, I _knew_ you were a stupid, self-centred _brat_, but that stunt you pulled yesterday night might even top the one in the Ministry! What were you _thinking_, talking to Malfoy as if you had no care in the world! _Were you even thinking?_ Somehow I seriously doubt that!"

Harry regarded Snape's still fuming form coolly. "If I had known how to get out of there without looking too suspicious I would have done so, _Professor_." He snorted. "Don't look at me as if I'm stupid. I don't want to die just yet, even if you don't believe me."

"He's right Professor," said Ginny tentatively. "Harry wouldn't endanger Sirius and–"

"Shut up, Miss Weasley," snarled Snape, giving Ginny a very nasty look, "This is an argument between me and Potter. Kindly stay out of this if you value your head where it is." He turned back to Harry. His black eyes were blazing with fury. "I can't believe I'm even _talking_ to you, Potter! Your stupidity is surpassing any expectations I had concerning you! By far! How can you have the cheek to provoke _Lucius __Malfoy_ of all people! Even I would have given you more credit." He lowered his voice a bit, making it sound like an impatient snarl rather than an angry shout. "Now I owe Moody five galleons because I had faith in your two brain cells and he didn't." He sneered. "But then again one never ceases to learn." He threw Harry a last, venomous glare, turned on his heel and stalked away. In the doorframe, however, he halted and turned halfway around. "Before I forget it, Potter, you have detention on Monday, first day back in school. In my office, eight o'clock sharp."

"For what?" Harry asked angrily. "We have holidays, you can't give me detention!"

"You're just witnessing the impressive act of me doing exactly that," said Snape haughtily. "And for the reason, I thought that was obvious. Stupidity needs to be punished, although I do see that you are a lost cause. I usually am not into torture, Potter, but we need your head on your shoulders, not as a bowling ball for the Dark Lord's private collection. And I will attempt to pound a modicum of common sense in that thick skull of yours."

"I'm touched," replied Harry dryly. "And I will keep your sage advice in mind in case Malfoy decides to come on to me again."

"The wisest thing to do in such a situation, Potter, is to turn on your heel and run." Snape's lip curved in dismay. "Pride be damned. Potter. You still need to learn that lesson." With that he finally turned around and left the room, slamming the door in his wake.

Harry breathed deeply and then slammed his half-filled quill angrily down. Ink spattered all over the table. Ginny cursed.

"I can't believe he's giving me detention!" said Harry, fuming. "As if he's never been in such a situation!"

"Yes, but he's older and more experienced," said Hermione carefully. "Look, Harry, he's bitching now but he's also worrying. The Order needs you for the war, they can't afford to lose you like that."

"There's always Neville," said Harry petulantly. He crossed his arms over his chest. "I might be the one with the scar but Neville is also good at duelling."

Ginny grinned. "You-Know-Who is a moron, but then we already knew that."

Hermione nodded in agreement. "Voldemort concentrates on you. He thinks he has marked his sworn enemy. Besides, Neville's school scores leave room for doubt, don't you think?" She smirked. "I hope Neville will make them regret their haughtiness. It's better to overestimate your enemies than the other way around."

The others nodded thoughtfully. Then Harry stretched and looked at his homework. "Well, I for my part want them to overestimate me. Would you give me a hand, 'Mione?" He grinned at her, pleased that she rolled with her eyes before she left her seat and plopped down next to him.

"That's so unfair," muttered Ron. He was scooting closer nonetheless.

Harry gave Hermione his DADA essay, looking expectantly at her. She read it over quickly and then sighed.

"Harry, it's just the book! How can you make a mistake copying it?" Hermione asked incredulously when she was done reading.

"Oh, I changed the word order here and there," said Harry with false innocence. "Am I not a good boy?"

"I'm overjoyed," replied Hermione dryly and put it back on the table. "That's okay, Harry. Do you have anything else?"

"Yeah, History of Magic. It went well until I was stuck at the revolution of Humphrey the Hunchback. Somehow I don't quite understand his motives," said Harry.

"Oh, that's easy." Hermione glanced at Ron. "You might want to take notes," she said, smirking.

Harry and Ron took notes while Hermione explained how Humphrey the Hunchback managed to gather followers for his cause and why the revolution was futile in the end. Ginny in the meantime finished her own essay for Binns and then it was almost time for lunch.

Hermione made them clear the Living Room and went to help Mrs Weasley. Harry and Ron exchanged a look, then shrugged and put their stuff back into their rooms.

Harry was irritated that he had to ask somebody to spell his homework clean later. As much as some teachers tolerated teenager scrawl and the occasional folded edge of parchment, Harry didn't believe they would take kindly to ink-smeared work.

Dinner was a rather quiet affair. Snape was still seething at Harry. Hermione, who had sat next to Harry, made it her duty to smile at Snape which only served to infuriate the man even more. Ron apparently found it funny because he sneered the whole time while Ginny elbowed him in the ribs every three minutes. Harry hoped Ron would be sore later.

Mrs Weasley glared at each of them in turn, scowling at Snape and Ron the most. Dumbledore and McGonagall chose to ignore the bad vibes at the table. Harry noticed that Mr Weasley wasn't present, again. He thought briefly about asking Mrs Weasley but decided quickly against it when he saw her frowning face.

After dinner Harry, Ginny, Hermione and Ron retreated into the warded room on the fourth floor. Nobody was really up to do much, but Harry felt he needed to vent some frustration.

"You know that Snape is just worried," said Hermione after Harry had blasted a shabby stool into pieces.

"He has a funny way of showing it," growled Harry back, sending the Reductor Curse at the poor piece of furniture for good measure. "I just wish he hadn't said anything."

"Let it go, Harry," said Ginny. "We know it's not your fault that Fudge came into that restaurant."

Harry snorted. Snape and the other adults certainly thought so, despite the ridiculousness of that accusation.

"They are all under a lot of stress," said Hermione calmly. "I can imagine what they have to face now. Narcissa Malfoy at the Ministry, no Muggle departments anymore, new decrees by Umbridge …"

"There will be some, right?" snarled Ron. He looked ready to punch Umbridge into a bloody pulp. "I wished the stupid bitch would just snuff it." He trampled on Harry's smashed stool with an expression of utter satisfaction on his face. Ginny winced at the brutal crunching sounds. "Maybe someone has a kind heart and does it before there'll be mutiny at the Ministry."

"I would do it," said Harry. "But I'm supposed to be the goody-two-shoes. Besides, Dumbledore would have a fit and I'm not too sure he would be able to get me out of prison for snuffing Umbridge."

"Impressive what one gets for being a hero," said Ron bitterly. "Overthrowing someone like Umbridge should be legal." He kicked the trashed stool one last time before he made it vanish with a quick wave of his wand.

"That was impressive, Ron," said Hermione, mildly surprised.

"Yeah, I learned to do _Evanesco_ silently," replied Ron sheepishly.

"Whatever for?" Ginny asked suspiciously.

Ron blushed uncomfortably. "Well, for crumps in my bed!"

Harry coughed to stifle his laughter. "Well then, are you up for some more wandless magic?" he asked pleasantly.

Hermione nodded. "Of course. I think I'm just about to get the hang of it."

Ginny and Ron agreed as well, so Harry conjured four pillows for them to try summoning. They were rather unmotivated today; Harry still had a somewhat heavy head from yesterday night's escapade and Hermione, Ron and Ginny simply seemed to be caught by the holiday laziness. But somehow their unhurried work made it all the better. Hermione managed to summon her pillow at the end of their session almost flawlessly, and Ron too was rather successful in beckoning it closer. Harry held back for the sake of his friends, although he was rather bored. He wanted to try other things but reckoned they would just be unsettled if he moved on too quickly.

Later, when Harry was lying in his bed, he was thinking hard about his magic and the things he still had to learn. Occlumency was slowly coming to him, as well as Legilimency. Word- and wandless magic was important for him and his DA. They needed to be able to help themselves. Harry now knew that this was war and that they had to use every advantage they had.

Harry spent an obscene amount of time working on his defence mechanisms that night. All his memories concerning his whereabouts or Malfoy's visits to Hogwarts or The Kiss were stowed in his Pensieve as usual, but still. It was not worth risking discovery at all. So he worked and sneered inwardly about the rage Voldemort would feel.

Voldemort was always in rage when he noticed the new layers of protection over Harry's mind. Despite the cold fear he felt when Voldemort approached him in his dreams Harry felt smug and not just a bit defiant and daring. But he knew that now was not the time to taunt Voldemort. Later maybe, when he was fully trained in Occlumency. He knew that some Muggle poet had said the best way to overcome fear was to mock it. How else could the Ridiculous Charm work so well on Boggarts? If he just knew who the wise poet was. He would love to send flowers.

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**End of chapter 8**


	10. Chapter 9

_Disclaimer: Please see part 1. _

_Thanks:_ My thanks go, as usual, to all the faithful readers who take their time to read, review and subscribe to the story. You guys are really awesome and make my day with your comments! Thanks a lot for so much feedback!

And of course I also thank my wonderful beta **Licelli **who helped me through all the small and big mistakes and explained grammar and things to me (again and again *g*).

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**Chapter 9**

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During the next few days the house was unusually empty. Snape, Dumbledore and McGonagall had returned to Hogwarts to prepare lessons and refill the stocks of things they needed for lessons.

Sirius and Remus both finally kept their word and started to teach Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny everything they thought was important. In some ways it was worse than school – they barely left the warded room on Monday at all – but in all the other ways it was so much better. Harry felt unusually free and bouncy with all the strong magic he performed; was allowed to perform. Sirius also wasn't shy to teach them some basic spells of the Dark Arts, such as some mean trap spells they hadn't found in the books of his library earlier, or some attack spells that could set the body of an enemy on fire without actually harming him. It was a relatively mild curse that only served to knock people unconscious with a sensation overload of the nerve system.

During their free time, they visited Buckbeak in his attic, fed and coddled him, trying to ease his loneliness.

Wednesday afternoon, the day of New Year's Eve, finally allowed the four of them to relax a bit. Harry mourned the break; Sirius would make a wonderful teacher if he just were exonerated from the charges laid against him he hadn't committed. He was demanding and expected a lot of them but he also was helpful and supportive. He didn't expect them to do everything right at the first try but rather tried to explain the theory to them patiently and then see how far they could go with that. Only then the practical work started. And the method worked really well for all of them.

When six o'clock approached the house suddenly filled with people. Ministry workers arrived in swarms and Harry recognised some of them as members of the Order. The others, Ron told him, must be as well, otherwise they wouldn't be here. Fred and George arrived with a sparkly show in one of the fireplaces of the Living Room, only to be pushed out of the way by a clumsily following Tonks. Moody rushed out of another fireplace at exactly the same time, catching her with a clever spell. The roaring laughter at the little show only confirmed Harry's suspicion that they all knew each other. It would be an exhausting night to meet everybody.

Mrs Weasley cleaned the visitors who had come by Floo with a quick spell. Remus and Sirius where nowhere to be seen. Harry suspected they had annexed the kitchen for Remus' secret baking.

Fifteen minutes later Dumbledore arrived. He had come through the Floo, too, and he apparently had used the same Floo powder as Fred and George, because the funky, glittering soot sparkled around him and in his beard and robes for a full three minutes. After him McGonagall and Snape stepped out of the fireplace. McGonagall was clad in merry Scottish Tartans and looked expectantly around, whereas Snape wore his usual black robes and his usual forbidding expression.

Next to Harry Hermione started to fiddle with the hem of her rather short skirt - Ginny had needed one hour to talk her into wearing it because Hermione had thought it too short for her liking. However, Ginny could be very convincing if she wanted to be, and now Hermione was wearing it.

Personally Harry thought that she looked extraordinarily cute in her short skirt and tight red top. They were so unlike her and yet so fitting that the others really couldn't help but notice.

He smirked. She had the ungrateful task to hand Snape his hand reading at midnight. It was something she did and did not look forward to, and it made her skittish. Having been forced to wear skimpy clothes obviously didn't make it any easier.

"Hermione!" said George loudly when they approached them, "You look wonderful!"

Hermione jumped at the sudden noise and squeaked.

"Whom do you want to kill tonight, 'Mione?" Fred asked, sounding scandalised.

"Oh sod it!" said Ginny smugly. "It's New Year's eve, give her a break!"

Fred and George both raised their hands and tried to look innocent. "Alright, alright, just teasing," said Fred finally when Ginny continued to stare at him.

George grinned at Hermione who was beet red in the face by now. "Alicia, Katie and Angelina will follow later, guys! Isn't that great?" He clapped his hands together. "Ah, all the beautiful girls this year! The Cordleys brought their daughter, too."

Grinning, the twins took off in the general direction of the loudest noise.

Harry and Ron excused themselves and mingled amongst the crowd on their own. Ron introduced him to a lot of people he knew through his father. Everybody regarded Harry with interest but thankfully no one was acting like a hero worshipper. In fact he was introduced to so many people, mostly family members of aforementioned Ministry workers, that it was impossible for him to remember all their names.

Halfway through their struggle, Dumbledore took pity on them and presented Harry and Ron the rest of the Order members. Stunned, Harry realised in a peaceful second that Snape and McGonagall guided Hermione and Ginny through the crowd as well.

"Ah, Harry, how is school?" Doris Crockford asked. Harry had met her in the Leaky Cauldron the first day he had gone to the wizarding world and she still looked the same.

"Uhm, okay I think," he replied, shying away from her toothless grin.

"Harry, I don't think you've ever met Dedalus Diggle properly," said Dumbledore. His eyes twinkled merrily behind his glasses as he dragged Harry away from Doris Crockford and over to the plump, excited wizard who was already fingering his wand as if he wanted to shower the Living Room with shooting stars right now.

Harry looked at a shrugging Ron, begging silently for help or at least some mercy. From the corner of his eyes he could see Hermione who seemed to enjoy herself in Snape's company. McGonagall and Ginny where nowhere to be seen but Harry guessed they were off to some colleagues of Mr Weasley. Diggle started to chat happily and Harry drowned him quickly out. Dumbledore was mostly talking to the man, anyway.

Suddenly loud music started to play. Apparently Fred and George had found the entertainment system. Laughter rang through the house and the guests made their way to the refreshments which were lined up at the far side of the room. Dumbledore expressed his worry for the much-loved lemon-flavoured punch and left Harry and Ron to themselves.

"Oh no, look, Ginny left Hermione alone with Snape," hissed Ron when he noticed the two striding through the now almost empty room.

Harry resisted the urge to tell Ron that Hermione was more than capable of looking after herself; he knew it was futile. Ron was astoundingly skilled at only seeing what he wanted to see, and if he wanted to see Hermione in danger he would see it until somebody either beat some sense into his head or he understood by himself. Whichever came first.

The loudly ringing doorbell announced new guests and Harry excused himself to get the door. He elbowed his way through masses of people with whom he mostly had just exchanged some pleasantries. When he passed the kitchen a strange smell tickled his nose. Sirius and Remus were still in there, so Harry guessed they were still busy preparing whatever cake Remus wanted to prepare. He decided not to wonder about his godfathers' strange doings.

Opening the door after peering into the spyglass_,_ Harry wondered anew if any Death Eater could be so dumb – or so brave! – to actually try his or her luck with coming through the front door. Stranger things had happened. A gush of icy cold air hit Harry square in the chest, so he quickly admitted Angelina, Katie and Alicia in. The three girls were obviously chaperoned by Professor Sprout who nodded cheerfully at Harry when she got in the house.

"Hello Harry," she said loudly in a rather futile attempt to be louder than the blaring music. "How are you? I trust your holidays have been fine so far?"

Harry took her cloak and put it away, smiling genially and successfully avoiding the question. Sprout waddled into the Living Room, happily greeting friends and colleagues. Alicia, Angelina and Katie handed their cloaks to Twinky, all the while looking around the entrance hall curiously.

"So, this is the house of the infamous Sirius Black?" whispered Katie in awe. "Wow, it looks great! When do we get to see him?"

Harry grinned, feeling more at ease with just the girls than with Sprout. "Soon. As soon as he's coming out of the kitchen, I guess."

He ushered the girls into the Living Room and got them drinks. Soon Hermione, Ron and Ginny joined them. The tension bled out of Harry, now that he had some more people here that were younger than thirty. Katie, Angelina and Alicia got a serious talk about appropriate behaviour from Dumbledore and then they begged Harry to lead them through the house and show all the rooms to them. The group happily left the adults behind and did a quick tour of Harry's home. It was only two more hours until midnight, anyway. Ron bickered with Hermione about her short time alone with Snape of all people. Katie, Angelina and Alicia didn't say anything about that but listened with rapt attention.

When they got back half an hour later, Fred and George suddenly popped up from nowhere and stole Katie and Angelina for a moment. Alicia laughed and shooed the hesitating girls away.

"Go already!" she scolded playfully. "I'm fine with Harry and Ron and the girls, really."

"That I can believe," said Fred and bowed mockingly. He and George offered Katie and Angelina their arms and wandered off into a secluded corner.

Alicia looked around again. "I really can't believe I'm here!" she said in astonishment. "First I thought everybody was nuts when they said I could visit you here, Harry! It was so sudden!" She grinned excitedly. "But now I really believe that Black is innocent and – Oh my _freakin'_ _god_!" Her dropping jaw and pointing index finger gave Harry a fairly good idea what she was seeing.

Sirius had entered the room, and apparently Alicia was instantly smitten with him. Sirius was really looking good today, even more so than usual. His black, shoulder long hair was shining softly and his clear-cut, handsome face glowed in contentment. Black slacks and a whine red shirt completed his imposing appearance. Harry allowed himself a smug grin, although he felt a bit troubled on Remus' behalf.

"This is your godfather?" breathed Alicia incredulously. "Oh my god, he's _gorgeous_!" She stepped around Harry and squinted to see Sirius better.

"He's with Remus, so you better forget it," said Ron in a bored voice.

Right then Remus strutted in, winding his arm around Sirius' waist and smiling at Tonks who'd just managed to spill her punch all over McGonagall.

Alicia's face fell. "Why are all the cute guys gay?" she asked, disappointed.

Hermione huffed. "Oh please, as if you'd stand a chance. He and Sirius have beentogether since their school days."

"That was beautiful, Hermione," said Ron and rolled his eyes. Alicia and Hermione both poked him for that and Harry and Ginny snickered behind their hands.

Sirius excused himself when he spotted Harry and swaggered over. "Hello there," he said, looking at Alicia. "I don't believe we met before. I'm Sirius Black." He extended his hand and Alicia shook it breathlessly. Sirius caught Harry's grin and smirked back.

"Alicia Spinnet," said Alicia softly. "Er, you have a very nice house, Mr Black."

"Thank you," replied Sirius politely. "I'm glad that the countless hours of de-Doxy-ing and cleaning finally paid off."

Remus came over, having finished his little chat with a completely embarrassed Tonks. He smiled at Alicia. "Miss Spinnet, if I'm not mistaken?" he queried.

Alicia nodded. "How are you doing, Professor Lupin?" She looked to her left and right and then looked back at Remus. "I really wish you were still our teacher; that Blackadder woman is driving me mad." She patted Harry on the back. "If it wasn't for Harry we would die very young and very stupid."

"I'm very proud that you're continuing your training in the DA," said Remus quietly. "It came to my attention that Dumbledore doesn't know about it and I actually believe it's for the best. This way Fudge can't accost Dumbledore and you can train in peace."

"If Umbridge continues her … conquest," said Hermione disdainfully, "then we won't have much to learn in the future because she'll know what to look for. So we better do it before it's too late."

"I bet Malfoy would sidle up with her again," said Ron hatefully. "That little ferret has nothing better to do with his time, anyway."

Hermione sniffed. "He's just doing it to placate us. If Umbridge would go against him too he'd help us."

Sirius chuckled. "Ah, it's almost like the old times," he said into Remus' hair. "But of course it's always the others that have all the fun." His eyes twinkled mirthfully when he looked at them. "I wish I were a student once more. And just think about the possibilities if we could work together with Fred and George!"

"You still can," Ginny pointed out. "In fact, I know they would be interested in collaborating; you are the infamous Marauders, after all."

Remus looked mildly interested. "Really? Well, that's one way to earn a living." He smiled at Sirius and squeezed his hand. "Siri always had most of the initial ideas and James and I fine-tuned them. It was rarely the other way round."

Sirius shrugged. "I never was one for subtle plans. I envisioned the outcome." He smiled broadly at Harry and his friends. "Well then, how about some muffins after midnight, kiddos?"

"Why after midnight?" Hermione asked, instantly suspicious.

Remus lip curled. "We don't want you to miss the fireworks."

"You'll like them," said Sirius. "Now we have to go and meet the Mallorys. They can get a bit tetchy if we ignore them for too long."

"Weren't they the ones who gave you Twinky?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yeah," replied Sirius, looking around the room a bit distractedly. "Anyway, they're quite the snobs and I have to maintain my status as the last member of the noble Blacks."

"Sounds as if they believe in the Pureblood doctrine," said Harry slowly. "Why are they in the Order?"

"Actually they went to Durmstrang," supplied Remus eagerly. "But as every good Pureblood they pride their independence and refuse to bow to Voldemort. Voldemort is an obstacle so they conspire with us to get rid of him."

"They're good friends," said Sirius reassuringly when he saw his young charges frown in incredulity. "Sure, they are snobby and sometimes really get on our nerves, but they know what they want, have valuable contacts and stand up to their decisions." He shrugged. "Well, at least I like them, if that's enough for you."

"At least somebody has got a brain," muttered Ron not so quietly. "If _they_ are clever enough to turn from You-Know-Who others must be as well. Unfortunately not all."

"Just say that you think Malfoy won't change sides anytime soon," huffed Ginny.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Really, Ron, your grudge against Malfoy is bigger than Harry's. I can't believe Harry is supposed to be Malfoy's arch enemy. It should be you."

Sirius leaned against Remus. "Well, Dumbledore certainly hopes that several of the old families will come around in time, if only to save their own hide."

"I do hope the Zabinis will come to their senses," said Harry bitterly. "Blaise is a really good friend of us and I would hate to see him suffer."

Hermione snorted in agreement. "The worst part is not that he could go to Voldemort in the end but that the Ministry might come down on him when the war is over. Provided we win, of course." She smiled a crooked little smile that reminded Harry greatly of Snape. It was almost cynical. "We need to get Fudge and the other morons out of the way first so we can finally live in peace." She started to pace, gesticulating with her arms. "If only we had a reliable Minister, then we could do much more than those petty power plays."

Harry noticed that her wand was tucked away in the waistband of her skirt, a curious sight. Just then Hermione pulled it out and started to wave around with it, emphasising her point.

"I wonder what Umbridge will come up with. If she dares to set foot into Hogwarts again, she'll not live to tell the tale. I will think of something to make her regret her puffed-up, power hungry plans!"

"Cool, can we help?" said Fred. He, George, Angelina and Katie were back from their talk and eager to join the conversation.

"Of course," said Hermione smugly. "That will teach the old bitch a lesson or two."

"Language, Miss Granger," said Snape who was passing them by. He halted shortly and sneered at them. "As much as people might share your sentiment, sometimes it's wiser to keep silent until the moment is right for a … strike."

"Yes, yes," she said loftily, waving him away absently. Harry was astounded that Snape didn't seem to be irritated by her behaviour. "Of course we wouldn't discuss plans while _she's_ around. But I hope nobody in this house will drop a hint to the stupid bint."

"I certainly hope so, too, Miss Granger," replied Snape coolly and strode away.

George slung one arm around Katie's shoulders and the other around Hermione. "Wow, seems like you and the old bat have something in common, after all."

Ron barked a laugh. "You should have been there when Umbridge sat in our Potions class."

"Yeah, we really didn't know who should drop dead first," said Harry. "But in the end I guess I wanted Snape to come out on top. Imagine _her_ as a teacher in Hogwarts, and permanently."

Everybody shuddered in morbid delight. Then Hermione pushed her wand up her left sleeve (she always drew it like one would draw a sword from its sheath) and huffed deeply, throwing George's arm off. "Well then, I suppose we should get back in there before they send somebody to fetch us."

The others agreed readily and together they marched back into the Living Room, nodding at people left and right. Fred attached himself to Harry after he had got a glass of fire whiskey from Twinky. Eager to hear everything about Saturday's outing, Harry dragged Fred into a corner and looked at him expectantly. George was straggling with Katie and Alicia but looked over to him and waved cheerfully, indicating that he would join them any moment.

"How was it?" Harry asked excitedly when George was finally with them. "Snape was thoroughly sozzled on Sunday, so spill!"

The twins laughed sinisterly. "Well, royally pissed would be more fitting," said George and smirked evilly. "Our first stop was, of course, the Leaky Cauldron. We took our first pint–"

"Or it might have been two–"

"Anyway, we got along really well," finished George.

Fred snickered. "Good old Snape is quite the burner when he's loosened up, really. He's got that dark kind of humour–"

"Sarcasm," threw George in helpfully.

"-and he got on about every single person we saw," said Fred, cuffing his brother good-naturedly. "And then it got interesting."

"After the fifth pint we decided to move on to wine. I don't think anybody ever heard more about Snape's personal life than us," said George proudly.

"Yeah, wine loosened his tongue, making him so melanchooolic," cooed Fred.

"Hogwarts was our main topic, really, and you won't believe what we heard about Dumbledore. Apparently he and McGonagall have quite a liaison. Of course nobody knows about that," said George.

Harry gaped. "That's not true, is it?" Doris Crockford smiled at him from afar and Harry quickly looked away, not wanting to encourage her to come over.

"Oh, but that's just the beginning!" said Fred cheerfully. "Remember, Harry, you're playing with the big boys here. Everything is scandalous and delicious, just as we like it."

George sighed theatrically. "Then he went on about Flitwick and his improper relationship to some weird birds on Fiji–"

"Thank God we were too drunk to remember that properly," said Fred and shuddered. "He was quite elaborate about that."

"Did he talk about business with you?" Harry asked, eyes gleaming in excitement.

"Not at first," admitted Fred. "But after the three of us emptied the first bottle of Gin he was more amenable to it."

"We proposed him his own lab for temporary research," said George, sniffing. "We told him he could come and go as he pleases as long as he tries to find solutions for our problems. And the salary wasn't that bad, either."

Fred laughed appreciatively. "Well, the git told us he had money enough from his family; his bastard of a father hadn't managed to bring it all to waste; and he wouldn't need the money. The old snake seems to have some serious issues there."

"It's obviously not the money," muttered Harry. "But I shudder when I think about his reasons to stay and teach at Hogwarts. Somehow I really don't believe in the gratification of teaching. Not when it's about Snape."

Fred and George chuckled. Then Fred cleared his throat and continued. "Of course we asked him what else he would want for his admittedly precious services."

George knocked his glass of whiskey back and grinned like a Cheshire cat. "He wouldn't talk, the greasy git, but Fred and I both thought that with a bit more alcohol even Snape would come up with something he wants. So we went to another bar and filled him up with cocktails." He snickered evilly. "Don't tell anybody that he has a rather obscene fondness for melon cocktails."

Fred smirked. "Yeah, gone are the rumours about mint or brandy."

"Although we do have to concede in the Single Malt department," said George regretfully. "Anyway, we really tried to get something out of him but in the end the bastard just told us to owl him and come up with some good ideas."

Fred snickered. "We were so smashed that we had to use a Muggle cab, and believe me, some Muggles can contort their faces really weirdly."

"I can't even remember fully how we got back to our flat," said George and shrugged. "I think Tom got us there. "All I know is that we dumped Snape in my room and crashed in Fred's bed together."

"All in all we have been remarkably unsuccessful," resumed Fred, but Harry found that he didn't sound particularly sorry about that. "We might just repeat the evening."

Harry rolled his eyes. "There you go on a tour with Snape and accomplish nothing?" he asked.

"Nothing is too big of a word," said Fred in a mock-hurt voice. "We did hear a lot of valuable gossip; play nicely and you'll get a copy."

Harry snorted in laughter. "You actually wrote that down? _How_?"

"Protocol Quill," said George proudly. "Comes quite in handy, especially when your interview partner is unsuspecting and spilling a lot of beans." He winked. ,,We've got _everything_ about Fiji after all."

"And it's funny too, you should see what the quill made of our speech when we were too pissed to talk normally." Fred combed through his longish hair and smiled, obviously rather satisfied with himself and his brother.

"That would be a nice joke for your shop," said Harry, smirking. "Invent something that simulates inebriation and deliver a Protocol Quill with the set. It could be a game like speaking difficult words."

"Those quills are expensive, but I think we could come up with a good substitute," said Fred. "We'll see if the idea is worth our wile. If so we'll pay for it, of course."

"How convenient that we're talking about it," said Harry, "Ginny was hinting that you'd like to have Sirius and Remus in your team."

"Well, if they are interested," said George delicately.

"Oh, bloody hell, they are our role models! In our first year at Hogwarts we served so many detentions with Filch, and he told us all about the famous Marauders, that we decided to live up to that standard!" Fred actually fanned himself. "Their noble deeds will always raise my spirits."

"Those two are the reason why we dropped out of school and decided to finally get a hold of our dreams and start our business. It would be a dream come true," said George longingly. "We would learn from the best, after all."

Harry leaned a bit closer when a tipsy Madam Sprout swayed by. "Sirius is really unhappy when he's alone in here. You could just talk to him and Remus and see if they want to do it. I have a feeling it would take their minds off our problems for a while."

"Speaking of problems, Harry," said Fred quietly and leaned closer, "Do you think you could get some more photos of Hermione?"

"For what?" Harry asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. "I won't give you any more ammunition against her."

"Against _her_?" George asked incredulously. "It's for _us_! Do you think we could blackmail her for looking cute and sexy?" He shook his head and shared a smirk with his brother.

"No, Harry dear, we thought about a small present for Snape," said Fred. "And here are the advantages: First of all, Snape is integrity personified when it comes to students, so a photo of Hermione would never make the rounds. The second is that 'Mione would never know because Snape would never give it back; he would give himself away if he did. And the third advantage is, of course, the shock element. If anything we could blackmail him into accepting our offer."

"Because of the incriminating material you send him?" Harry asked dryly.

"Exactly," replied Fred happily. "We would offer you a huge favour in return, Harry. Anything you need."

Harry found himself thinking about it and cursed under his breath. "Dammit," he whispered, "That's not fair! Hermione would kill you if she ever found out! Besides, she's my friend, I can't do that!"

"Just think about it, Harry," said George with a huge grin. "You would make an old man happy. And maybe Snape would even change his view of Hermione."

Harry hung his head. The idea appealed to him, even if he was shocked that he thought about it at all. Finally he glared at Fred and George and said: "I will think about it. But don't pester me."

The twins nodded gratefully and promised him a copy of all the dirty little secrets they had heard on Saturday. Harry excused himself, all the wile berating himself for his decision to help the twins. On the other hand, it _would_ be nice to have something to blackmail Snape with.

When he met with Ron, Hermione and Ginny he couldn't look Hermione in the eyes for a few minutes. Thankfully their attention was attracted by an overzealous Diggle who shot shooting stars across the Living Room and a hooting and squawking Mrs Weasley, who unwittingly had eaten one of Fred and George's Transfiguration Toffees. Out of the door Harry spied the Mallorys apparently having a lot of fun throwing eggs at Mrs Black's portrait. Their daughter, a twenty year old woman, was supporting her parents with loud whistles and obscene shouts. Mrs Blacks shouting and screeching now included blood traitors and disgraces to the Dark and a many things more. Laughter rang through the whole house and Harry felt a zip of happiness shoot through him.

Grinning, Harry fetched a bowl with chips and offered some to his friends. After a good laugh it was much easier to face Hermione. Even though she didn't know it, Harry was sure the twins' plan could actually work. It wasn't as if Snape would develop a crush on Hermione just because of a few photos, anyway. And Harry would make sure that no offending pictures of a too-naked Hermione would make the round. The one of her in underwear was quite enough. He pondered that he might have to ask Ginny or Colin for photos, though.

They spent an hour wandering through the masses of people. Harry was surprised how different the members of the Order were. Some were rich, others poor, a lot of them were pro-Muggle and pro-Muggle-borns, others, like the Mallorys, were quite snobbish and obviously Purebloods. The one and astoundingly strong connection they all had was their hate for Voldemort and their wish to bring him down for good.

Harry had to shake hands everywhere, and almost everybody asked about his friends and he gladly introduced Hermione, Katie, Alicia and Angelina. The Weasleys were, of course, well-known in the Order. Kingsley Shacklebolt greeted them with his deep voice and asked if everything was all right at Hogwarts, just asthey were approaching the refreshments table. Harry and Hermione expertly evaded the question about the DA but admitted that they would form a resistance if Umbridge should come back to Hogwarts.

"Dolores Umbridge," said Shacklebolt slowly, scratching his chin thoughtfully, "She's a danger to our community. After her sacking this summer, Fudge was quite subdued for a few weeks, but unfortunately the Mediwitches in St Mungo's got her back together and he allowed her to come back to the Ministry. Don't ask me how he got _that_ through! The Wizengamot certainly was not amused."

"Since when did Fudge respect the law?" Hermione hissed bitterly. "He already went against the Hogwarts policy that states that Hogwarts is independent in choices of teachers and curriculum." When her friends looked at her blankly she huffed in annoyance. "Honestly, when will you read '_Hogwarts: A History_'?"

"The young lady is quite right," said Shacklebolt, frowning. "Those laws have existed for hundreds of years already; it's a scandal that Fudge is going against them now."

"I think Fudge has a thing for Umbridge," said Harry. Ron shuddered in disgust, just as Ginny and Katie. "That would explain a lot."

"Pity that the Centaurs didn't finish her off," said Hermione coldly. "She, for one, would deserve it."

"Political murder, 'Mione?" Gorge asked, grinning broadly. "I thought you were better than that?"

Hermione snorted and straightened her skirt. "I'm quite aware that sometimes an exception is in order. And if not in this case I don't know when it ever was justified."

"Hear, hear!" crowed Fred and George in unison.

"I wonder what Umbridge did to rise so drastically in Fudge's favour," said Hermione slowly. "Maybe sleeping her way up the ranks …" Harry and Ron boggled at her. They had never, _ever_ heard her say such crude things – although she certainly was right; how else could Umbridge have managed her skyrocketing career?

"Fudge and Umbridge, what a pair!" said Fred and George dramatically as if introducing someone during a theatre play.

"Scary how she could regain her power so quickly," continued Hermione icily, ignoring the twins' cheers. "If Fudge is able to manipulate the Wizengamot, I don't really want to know what he's planning next."

"Maybe Fudge wants to start his very own monarchy," said Ginny and giggled. "With Umbridge."

"Uuuh, isn't it dirty?" George and Fred sing-songed, waggling their eyebrows obscenely.

"Ewww," said Ron, scrunching up his face in disgust. "The thought alone makes me sick!"

"Fudge and Umbridge, wouldn't that be a wonderful story for Rita Skeeter?" Hermione asked with glittering eyes. "If she has the balls to write it, that is." She looked at her friends who looked at her a bit oddly. "_What_? I told you I wanted her only involved when it is necessary. Now I think it _is_ necessary." She crossed her arms defiantly and glared back.

Shacklebolt laughed deeply. "Well, Hermione, it certainly would wreak a bit of much needed havoc in the Ministry." He wiped his earring and bowed lightly. "Please do write to Rita. Your little feud with her is legendary in certain circles, and I long to see the next round."

Hermione smirked smugly and crossed her arms triumphantly. "I will, just you wait. Maybe she's actually able to dig up a bit of dirt."

"And we could write our own article and give it to the _Quibbler_," said Ginny excitedly. "Maybe the Ministry will get some Howlers again."

"Some?" Shacklebolt asked. "The last time you took action my desk was scorched off from all the explosions! Not to mention the abuse my poor ears got!"

"If we are to get things to work, you'll just have to live with it," said Harry cheekily. "But it's for the greater good."

"I gathered as much," conceded Shacklebolt, chuckling. "Well, kiddos, I'm off to Moody and Tonks. Don't do anything stupid, all right?"

The twins complimented Shacklebolt away, then they huddled together. Harry looked at his friends expectantly, and they all grinned back at him.

"Do you think we can make this work?" Harry asked quietly.

"Discrediting Umbridge?" Hermione asked. "Oh _please_! Of course! What would be _difficult_ in doing that?"

Fred looked at his watch. "Oh dears, only ten minutes until midnight!" he said excitedly. "We should come up with a really cool new year's resolution!"

"Offing Umbridge," said Ron snidely.

"Offing You-Know-Who," added Ginny grimly.

"Kicking Malfoy's ferret ass," said Angelina.

"Getting Crabbe and Goyle expelled," said Katie.

"Kissing Malfoy," said Alicia dreamily.

Everybody gave her a look.

"_Kiss_ him?" Fred asked.

"The _ferret_?" George asked incredulously.

"Yes, well, he's really growing into his looks lately," said Alicia. She didn't even sound defensive, Harry had to give her that.

"The girls are going mad," said Ron and shook his head.

"I would rather kiss his father if I had a choice," said Hermione dismissively. "But seeing that he's an evil git I'd rather not." Now it was her turn to be stared at. "Well, he has _something_," added Hermione when Ron started to pull gross faces.

Alicia sighed in agreement. "Mmh, his hair, or his eyes … simply gorgeous."

Ron made gagging noises while the twins listened with rapt attention to what Alicia was saying. Harry involuntarily had to think about The Kiss and shuddered. Horrified he realised that the shudder was not exactly born from disgust. And he was even more horrified when he relived in his memory about flowing white blond hair.

"Seven minutes," said George cheerfully. "All resolutions set, ladies, gentlemen?"

"Yay!" the group cheered.

Secretly Harry had a whole bunch of wishes and resolutions for the new year; some of them were confusing and even scaring him, but he wouldn't back down. His instinct sometimes knew things ages before his rational mind did. That was one of the reasons why he didn't bother so much with learning and research. He was a bit slow on the uptake, but his gut was always right. Pity that he tried to squelch it as soon as he felt it because it frightened him most of the times. There had been that one time where he had allowed his instinct to take the lead, and it had helped him greatly. The one time when he had gone against all rational thought and just listened to his heart – the time when he had allowed Sirius to say his part, back in third year.

It was still one of the moments that allowed him to produce a powerful Patronus. He loved Sirius beyond reason; he was family. He had been from the second he had confessed his horrible past and the role he had played in his parents' death.

Actually it had started much earlier. Sirius had sent him a broom for Christmas, and somehow Harry had known that it was okay, that someone had sent it who cared deeply for him. Hermione, of course, had seen it a little bit differently.

Other things came to his mind, such as the knowledge that he should partake in the Trimagical Tournament although he had been far too young then. It was just a feeling that he should be there, and he was, and he had seen why. That he hadn't been able to save Cedric was still haunting him, but after two years he was slowly learning to live with it.

Frowning, he shook his head and cleared it from the hazy bits of his jumbled thoughts. Now it was amere two minutes until the clock would chime and they all would start working to live up to their resolutions.

Across the room friends and families locked eyes; Remus and Sirius stared at Harry and he stared back, the Weasleys crowded around their group and looked, waving happily. The chatter died down, the last seconds flew by …

"Ten!" shouted the occupants of the Living Room.

Harry knew that the next year would bring a lot of excitement, problems, but also new opportunities, maybe even love. And certainly danger.

"… Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! …"

Harry smiled broadly at his friends and squeezed Ron and Hermione's hands. In their excitement they had each grabbed the hands of their neighbours and built a circle. Harry knew that they could make it work, they would come out of this problem alive.

"_ONE_!"

Everybody cheered loudly, corks were popping out of sparkling wine bottles, Dedalus Diggle was shooting his shooting stars through the room, setting a curtain on fire. Fred and George went to light some of their own fireworks, even dared to go out on the dirty Muggle street and shoot their special rockets into the sky. With amusement Harry watched as they charmed the rockets to explode over the Ministry of Magic.

"Well, we can't give our hideout away, now can we?" Fred said, grinning, when Harry asked him about that.

Ten minutes and a glass of Butterbeer later Harry talked to Hermione, trying to raise her courage enough to get her to go to Snape and give him his palm reading. He conveniently had brought the one for Dumbledore and McGonagall as well and planned to hand them out as soon as Hermione was on her way.

"Give me a Butterbeer," she demanded weakly when he persisted. "I want to be at least drunk when he's glaring me into dust and ashes."

Harry handed her a bottle and she drank it down in one go. "That was not very lady-like," he admonished playfully.

"Oh, sod it!" said Hermione forcefully. She shook her curly hair back and straightened her skirt one last time. "If I die under fishy circumstances please inform my parents and set up a nice funeral," she said dryly.

"Run along already," laughed Harry. "Or he'll disappear before the party has really started." _Besides_, he thought, _I want to see his face when he reads his prophecy_.

Hermione approached Snape steadily. Harry, who only saw her back, imagined that her face was set in that determined expression he knew so well. When she was only six feet away Snape turned and regarded her coolly. Thankfully Harry didn't stand too far away to miss their talk.

"Miss Granger," said Snape slowly. "How wonderful to see you." The sarcasm couldn't be more cutting, but Hermione just stepped closer and raised her chin. "Well? What do you want? I do hope that whatever sordid prank you plan to carry out won't take too much of my time."

"Don't worry," said Hermione with such a pleasant voice that Harry nearly choked on his Butterbeer. "I wanted to give you something, actually." She held the scroll with her predictions out and waited for Snape to take it.

Snape's black eyes looked at the scroll of parchment disdainfully. "Miss Granger, you as a know-it-all should know that I wouldn't touch anything coming from you and your precious friends, unless it is homework." He tried to wave her off, but Hermione was persistent.

"Professor," said Hermione reasonably, as if talking to a child, "if I wanted to prank you I'd have less obvious ways to do it, don't you think? No, this is a hand reading I did. Every teacher is getting one."

Snape's left eyebrow threatened to disappear under his less-than-usual-greasy hair that looked a bit dishevelled (Moody had wrestled with him earlier, to Snape's undying embarrassment). "Ah. And why would I want to know what's coming to me next?"

Hermione turned slightly and allowed Harry to see her from the side. Now she was smiling. "Well, for one, I did your reading. And secondly, it could be something good for a change."

Snape's sour face indicated that he very much doubted that anything good was coming to him. "And why have _you_ done my hand-reading, Miss Granger? I thought you dropped that disquietingly vague branch of magic years ago."

"Oh, I did," said Hermione, "but reading a hand isn't as fishy as staring into a crystal ball or burning herbs or," she smirked at Harry, "digging in birds' innards."

Hesitantly Snape took the offered scroll and breached the red wax seal. "I refuse to take this seriously," he said after a moment of reading, "But I shall be thankful that you didn't predict my imminent and painful death right away."

"I'll be watching," said Hermione cheekily, "To see if the things happen as I predicted them."

Snape read further. At one point he blanched, at another he sported some very uncharacteristic red cheeks. Harry was guffawing inwardly; Snape must have read the part about love and happiness. When Snape was finished he gazed at Hermione thoughtfully. "I presume only you can make a prediction sound like an excerpt from an Arithmancy textbook." When Hermione smiled, pleased with herself, Snape said, "That was not a compliment."

Hermione sneered. "But I take it as one. Thank you very much, Professor."

A rather inebriated McGonagall stepped up to them and hugged Snape's stiff form enthusiastically. "Happy New Year, Severus! Let's hope that you'll make it through this one as well as the last one!" She raised a bottle and urged him to drink from it. "Oh, and you already read your hand-reading! Is it good?"

"As good as can be expected," said Snape coolly. "Now take that bottle out of my face."

"But I insist," said McGonagall and giggled. "Here, take a drink."

Snape scowled. "It smells like a very ill-concealed potion. What do you want with that? What is it?"

"Prude," hiccoughed McGonagall.

Snape took a sip; Harry knew he only did it to get rid of McGonagall. "What is this?" he asked again when he was done.

"Here, Miss Granger, you too," said McGonagall gleefully, ignoring Snape's suspicious question. "We'll have so much fun tonight!"

Hermione quickly sniffed the liquid and then shrugged. She took a sip of whatever stuff was in the bottle and handed it back to McGonagall then.

"Ha!" crowed McGonagall triumphantly. "You both drank the Kiss Cocktail! Now you have to kiss!"

Harry blanched, as did Hermione and Snape. Ron rushed to her side immediately. Dumbledore, Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, Sirius, Remus and a lot other people of whom Harry didn't remember the names, crowded around the unfortunate pair.

"Albus! Stop it that instant! It's indecent!" demanded Snape, cheeks flushed with fury and embarrassment. Fred and George next to him cheered loudly.

"Yeah, stop it!" cried Ron angrily. "You can't let him kiss 'Mione!"

"I'm sorry, but the rules say that you have to kiss if you've drunken the Kiss Cocktail," said Dumbledore genially. "Now come, Severus, allow yourself some fun."

"Why Hermione?" howled Ron in despair. "How could you, Professor, how?"

McGonagall pretended not to hear him. Instead she glared at Snape and Hermione. Sprout next to her grinned broadly.

"You should kiss," said Fred helpfully. "Really. Or the Cocktail will build up a compulsion to make you do it. It's our latest invention and we assure you that it works."

Snape glared at Fred. His mouth was set in a thin line. Hermione, on the other hand, looked flushed and wide-eyed.

"Minerva, you'll pay for that," growled Snape acidly. "I'll get you back, just you wait." Then he simply swept down on Hermione and kissed her right on the mouth. Several cameras flashed.

"It's your own fault if you can't recognise a simple Kiss Cocktail," replied McGonagall smugly when Snape stood upright once more and wiped his mouth with his black sleeve.

"And how, Kitty, was I supposed to do that?" Snape shot back angrily, completely dismissing the dazed Hermione. "I just heard that this god-awful cocktail is part of the Weasley stock. And seeing that I never had the chance to see it before–"

"Well done," said Dumbledore, leading Hermione and a raging Ron gently away from Snape and McGonagall. "The task is accomplished."

Harry quickly led Hermione and Ron away from the centre of attention. Hermione looked as if she couldn't believe what had just happened. And Ron's tomato red face looked astoundingly unhealthy.

"Why, what," stuttered Hermione, touching her lips slowly.

"That greasy git!" roared Ron. "How _dare_ he kiss her like that!"

"Ron, McGonagall tricked him into it," said Harry quietly. "It's all right, 'Mione."

Hermione slowly woke from her stupor and blinked at Ron and Harry. "Wow," she said. "I never, _ever_ thought he would do that to anyone. Ever."

Harry chuckled. "You know, of course, that I will want a photo of that."

"Photos?" Hermione asked weakly. "Oh my God, I'll never live this down …"

"No, you won't," said Ron angrily. "But fortunately Snape won't, either!"

Ginny, Katie, Alicia and Angelina strolled up to them. Each of the girls had a look of tremendous pity for Hermione. And when Fred and George joined the group, the chaos was perfect.

"Oh, how awful of McGonagall to do that to you, 'Mione!" said Ginny sorrowfully. "You must be out of your mind after that … attack!"

"Come to think of it, no, I'm not," said Hermione crossly. She crossed her arms and glared at each of them.

"It was a dare," said Katie with conviction. "I bet somebody dared McGonagall to slip you that drink."

"Snape and Hermione sitting in a tree, KISSING," sang Fred and George together. "Awww, it was so cute!"

"That was your invention!" yelled Ron, whirling around to face his brothers. "It's-all-your-fault!"

Hermione turned to Harry and frowned. "Call me tipsy if you want, but am I the only one who isn't annoyed about the whole thing?"

"I guess you are," replied Harry, shrugging. "I mean, I don't understand it either. Everybody knows how Dumbledore gets about pranks."

"At least Snape saved me from losing my face. I'll eat a broom, complete to the twigs, if they haven't invented a compulsion that makes the drinker beg like a little slut." Hermione pulled a face at that and shuddered. "No, I'm infinitely grateful that he had it done and over with. Besides, why does nobody think of _his_ dilemma? Ron acts as if he'd ripped an arm off of me or something."

Harry shrugged again, and then he spotted Dumbledore just a few metres away from them. Sirius and Remus were walking amidst the crowd as well, so Harry jumped at the chance to give Dumbledore his and McGonagall's palm reading before he went to his two godfathers.

Remus carried a large plate around. On it a mountain of muffins were piled. Mrs Weasley shot him a very dirty look across the room, but Remus seemed unfazed, especially now that Sirius shielded him from her glares. Harry wondered if these muffins were the reason for the cold war between Mrs Weasley and Remus, so he decided to just ask.

"Is that what you were arguing about with Mrs Weasley?" Harry asked, staring pointedly at the muffins. To him they looked perfectly fine.

Remus snorted. "Yes. Although I can't understand why! Here, take one, you'll like it."

Harry accepted the offered muffin but didn't eat it yet. "What's so special about them? Anything I should know?"

"Well, we spiked them a bit," admitted Sirius.

Remus sighed. "Usually we put some herbs into them … just for New Year, you see, but Molly got all bothered about it."

"What herbs?" Harry asked distrustfully. "Do you mean you have put some … _pot_ into these muffins?"

"Not exactly pot," said Sirius defensively. "Over the years we abandoned marihuana and tried magical plants instead. There is one that enhances your mind but doesn't addict you to it."

Harry honestly didn't know what to say to that. He sniffed cautiously on the muffin and turned it over a few times. But it looked perfectly innocent and delicious. "What's the name of the plant?" he asked finally, tired of having to ask every single detail.

"It's blue poppy," said Remus. "Blue poppy is a magical plant that is usually used in calming draughts or healing drafts. We just use it raw for our muffins so it allows you the same experience as marihuana would but without the ill side effects like red eyes or the slight addiction." He sniffed. "Sirius and I wanted to let you experience it by yourself and without making you hide."

"And there are really no ill side effects?" Harry asked. "Oh well, I'll try one." He suddenly grinned. "I can't believe it, my godfathers bake cakes with _pot_! Just wait until Hermione hears of it!" He grabbed a few more muffins and went back to his friends, offering them a muffin each.

After munching the muffins Harry quickly discovered that the herbs made his head swim a bit and he felt generally pleasantly drunk. He still had, fortunately, enough wits to see his friends experiencing the same.

"What-what was in that muffins?" demanded Hermione with a slightly slurred voice. "Don't tell me they were drugged."

"A bit," admitted Harry and grinned. "But don't worry, you won't have a big head tomorrow."

Ron giggled. "Cool, Harry. Absolutely brilliant! D'you think Mallory's daughter would fancy a dance?"

Fred and George, who were dancing with Angelina and Katie already, encouraged Ron with whistles and catcalls.

"Dancing, what a good idea!" said Hermione suddenly, her face lighting up. "Maybe I can get Snape to dance with me." She giggled happily and made her way through the room.

Harry had the suspicion that Hermione didn't take the drug well at all. In his opinion this was as close to insanity as dancing with a rabid Hippogriff. But as the good friend he was he obediently followed her. Her choice of partner, however, was not unreasonable since seemingly everybody else was already taken and on the floor and dancing, even Dolores Crockford was swaying to the melody, together with a bald, fat wizard that had a beard like Santa Claus himself.

Hermione found Snape astoundingly quickly, and she actually asked him to dance. Maybe it was fortunate for her that she really didn't take the drug too well because she fainted before Snape could even open his mouth. Scowling, Snape caught her and called for Sirius.

"Here, take her to bed, mutt," said Snape angrily. "And here I thought not even you could stoop so low and give the children drugs." He frowned at the sleeping Hermione in Sirius' arms. "What did you put in your muffins, anyway?"

"Blue poppy," replied Sirius. "Nothing to worry about, alright?" He lifted Hermione up easily. "I'll take her to bed."

"See that you do," spat Snape and stalked away.

Harry, feeling rather wobbly himself, decided to follow Sirius and see Hermione to bed. Just when he left the Living Room he saw Fred and George dancing wildly with their girlfriends. They didn't seem to have problems handling the special muffins. Harry sighed and started to climb the stairs. He felt weightless and weighed down by thoughts at the same time; it was a funny sensation.

The second floor was calm and dark. Sirius didn't bother to light every lamp. He just carried Hermione into her room, laid her down on the bed and pulled the covers over her slim frame. Harry regarded him curiously and Sirius smiled.

"I guess it's a bit too much for the two of you. Go to bed, Harry, it's okay. If the others get tired too, I'll bring them up. Okay?"

Harry nodded and hugged Sirius tightly. "Happy New Year," he mumbled into Sirius' shirt. Then he stumbled to his door, opened it and grinned cheekily. "Have a nice night."

-------

The next morning Harry had a perfectly clear head. His body felt fresh and restless, as if itching to do something after such a night of fine sleep. And he was hungry. Despite eating so much the day before, Harry's stomach growled loudly. He laughed happily. Even though he didn't really tolerate the blue poppy all too well, at least the lack of side effects was true.

Whistling, Harry jumped out of bed and hopped under the shower. He wanted to see Hermione first thing this morning. He hoped she would be over her embarrassed about her own courage last night. And since she had just drunk a bit of Butterbeer she wouldn't have much of a hangover either.

When he came down to the kitchen Hermione was already there. She sat in her chair, making herself as small as possible and drinking her coffee without looking up. Mrs Weasley and Twinky were preparing a late breakfast. Harry greeted them and sat next to Hermione. Just then he noticed Snape, who was sitting across from Hermione and looking terribly smug.

"Morning, Professor," mumbled Harry, somewhat deflated.

"Potter," said Snape curtly. Hermione still didn't look up. Instead she just gripped her cup tighter and tried to duck her head even more.

Harry frowned. Mrs Weasley piled pancakes onto his plate and poured him some coffee. It was too silent in the kitchen for Harry's taste. The ticking of the big clock was making him irritable, and Hermione wouldn't speak with him. Brooding, he started to shovel his pancakes into his mouth, washing them down with his coffee. Snape wasn't bothering him all that much; the man stared at Hermione in obvious malicious amusement anyway.

"You should eat a bit more, Miss Granger," said Snape suddenly, startling Harry and Hermione badly. "If you have a low toleration for blue poppy you should give your body important nutrients to make up for the failure yesterday."

Hermione blushed hotly and tried to hide behind her mug.

"Severus, leave her alone," admonished Mrs Weasley tersely. "I believe the children learned their lesson yesterday, _right_?"

"Yes, Mrs Weasley," said Harry quickly before she could prattle on.

"Maybe Miss Granger would like to tell her classmates about drugs when she's back at Hogwarts? That would make for a wonderful Potions class …," continued Snape as if he hadn't heard Mrs Weasley. "And maybe that will teach her a lesson not to pass out on her teachers again." Hermione's blush got even worse and Harry gritted his teeth. "Not to mention all the dangerous effects, like losing her common sense." He sneered at Hermione. "Let's hope that this will never occur again."

Hermione's grip on her coffee mug became so hard that her knuckles turned white. Harry threw his cutlery down and stood up. "Thanks for breakfast, Mrs Weasley. 'Mione, come on, I need help with my Transfiguration essay …" He pried the mug from Hermione's stiff fingers and dragged her out of the kitchen.

The house was eerily quiet. Harry wondered if the guests were already gone or still sleeping.

"Oh, he's hating me for yesterday night!" whimpered Hermione when they were back in Harry's room. "And he'll rub it in my face every chance he gets."

"Well, you _did_ ask him to dance with you, 'Mione," said Harry carefully.

"I know!" moaned Hermione in despair. "And I honestly don't know what made me do it! I swear, I'll never do drugs again, ever!"

Harry chuckled. "Look on the bright sight, 'Mione, I bet Snape didn't have anybody ask him to dance for a long time."

Hermione pulled at her hair in aggravation. "Fortunately I was out of it before he could reject me," she said bitterly. "I honestly don't want to know what I would have done then."

"Maybe it was for the best," agreed Harry. "But you really shouldn't worry so much. You did a lot of things lately, like fighting with Snape. Nobody will hold it against you when they hear that McGonagall tricked you into kissing him."

"I'll still never live it down," said Hermione glumly. "Just wait until Malfoy hears of it, or worse, Pansy Parkinson!"

Harry had to admit that Pansy Parkinson was indeed the worst gossip at Hogwarts, together with Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown. But having lived through some really nasty rumours concerning himself, Harry knew Hermione would survive it and laugh about it sooner or later. They were only young once, after all.

Then they heard footsteps outside the room. First Ron's and then Ginny's; the siblings walked quietly along the corridor. Hermione and Harry looked at each other; Ron and Ginny had tried for years to get the better of Fred and George.

It seemed they deemed 'now' for the perfect opportunity. With a shouted "AHA!" the twins' door was ripped open by Ron, only to be followed by an even louder "_AAAAAAAAARRRRRGH_!" Then there was a huge bang and insane laughter.

"Awww! Ickle Ronnikins tried to sneak up upon us," cooed Fred. "How brave, and how stupid."

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes and went to see what the twins had done now. From the stairs trampling could be heard; Mrs Weasley made her way up, presumably to scold her unruly sons. When they saw Ron and Ginny, Harry and Hermione broke down laughing and holding their stomachs. The siblings sat on the floor, covered in a pink, sticky goo.

"Cool, huh?" George asked smugly. "This is our new Super Slip Slime, Harry. We'll give you a sample soon."

Fred stepped up to Harry and Hermione and smirked. "We can serve you with any colour you wish, although the neon-coloured slime is the most embarrassing stuff. Plus it doesn't get off for days."

"Save me a ton," said Harry, not quite joking. He wondered if it would be a good idea to prepare some areas with the slime when Voldemort and his Death Eaters should attack.

"Noted," replied George and winked.

Mrs Weasley panted heavily when she finally arrived on their landing. "Fred-George-down-_now_!" she hissed menacingly. "And you go shower!"

Fred and George shared a short smirk before they followed their mother down. Ron and Ginny cursed loudly when they tried to get up but failed spectacularly. The Super Slip Slime made them slide back every time they managed to put so much as a foot down. First it was funny, but soon Harry and Hermione saw that they had a problem. None of them could do magic to spell the slime away, and Harry wasn't sure that the slime could be spelled away without problems, anyway.

Finally Harry went down to get Sirius to help them. In the kitchen Mrs Weasley berated Fred and George soundly for their irresponsible behaviour in their host's house. Harry thought that Sirius and Remus would applaud the twins for their new invention. Fortunately Sirius and Remus were already up and dressed. Harry hated to walk in on people. When he told the story to his godfathers both snorted in amusement and followed him back up the stairs.

"Ow, does Molly really have to be so loud?" said Remus and covered his ears when a particularly loud shriek of Mrs Weasley sounded through the house.

"You just drank too much last night, darling," replied Sirius rather unsympathetically. "So, this is the mess the twins made?"

Ron and Ginny glowered at Sirius but kept still. Remus prowled around the large puddle of goo, slipping a finger through it and sniffing it carefully. Hermione giggled when Ron scowled even more.

"Mmh, strawberry, Padfoot," said Remus cheerfully. "You know, maybe the twins could even sell this stuff in Sentinel's S-"

"I don't want to know it!" said Ron loudly, covering his bright pink ears and slipping promptly off himself. "Do not, under anycircumstances, complete that sentence!"

Ginny sniffed disdainfully. "I won't eat strawberries for a very long time!"

Sirius and Remus shared a deep look that made Harry and the others uncomfortable, and then Sirius pulled out his wand and sighed theatrically. "Well then, if I must remove the slime …"

"We can get a new batch," said Remus soothingly. Ron tried to cover his ears even harder while Ginny and Hermione gaped at the two men.

"Oh well. Let's see … _Evanesco_!" said Sirius firmly. Nothing happened, but the goo turned a brighter shade of pink and started to glow. Sirius laughed happily. "Wow, they managed to find the formula, Remi!"

"Most interesting," agreed Remus. "Mmh, what about … _Esfumado_!"

The goo started to pulse but didn't vanish. Sirius and Remus stepped closer and eyed the slime cautiously. Just then Fred and George came back up the stairs. Both were holding their ears and grimaced at the inquiring faces that greeted them.

"Mom told us to take it off," said Fred miserably.

"The woman has no sense of humour!" said George morosely.

"Care to share your secret?" said Sirius cheerfully.

"Yes, please," hissed Ginny angrily. Her formerly red hair was now completely soaked and looked decidedly pink.

Fred and George took out their wands and pointed it at the slime. "Only if you don't tell anybody else," said Fred.

"Yeah, where would be the fun if you did?" said George.

"Together, Forge?"

"Of course, Gred."

Fred and George raised their wands a little and then said sharply, "_Muddlewush_!"

The slime instantly vanished, leaving no trace behind. Ron and Ginny stood up immediately, dusting their pink-free pyjamas off and stalking back into their rooms. Harry, Sirius and Remus looked at the twins in wonderment.

"Muddlewush isn't even a word!" protested Hermione. "That's really mean!"

Fred grinned and bowed deeply. "Why, thank you. The slime shall amuse lots of people for a long time. Wouldn't it be stupid to just tell them the word?"

"If there's an emergency the people can owl us and they'll get the spell. But not before," said George. As an afterthought he added: "Well, we had to create an emergency office, otherwise the Ministry wouldn't approve of our products." Both twins pouted at that.

"I'm not sure the Ministry should approve of anything that comes from you," said Hermione snidely.

"Yeah, well, there's always Kingsley who pushes our case a bit … We are not alone," said George happily.

"Otherwise 'Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes' wouldn't be what it is today," agreed Fred. "I'm surprised that Fudge didn't try to get us by now, after all the trouble we caused Umbridge …"

"Maybe he needs our taxes," said Fred smugly. "The old codger wouldn't know what to do against us if we presented the possibilities to him ourselves."

"Now, the Malfoys are something completely different," said George, suddenly very serious. "He and his bitch wife only need to bat an eye and we would have a swarm of Aurors searching our business for illegal stuff."

"Which we have, of course," said Fred proudly. "But until now Kingsley will make do, and we are very grateful for that."

Harry snorted. He knew about one or two occasions when the twins had been grateful for something. But then again, someone who protected their beloved business certainly deserved their gratitude.

Ginny and Ron re-emerged from their rooms, freshly showered and dressed in suitable clothes. Hermione considered them before she turned on her heel and went into her and Ginny's room. Not a minute later she came back out, wand in one hand, study plan in her other.

"Let's do something productive," she said to Harry. "And you," she indicated Ron and Ginny with her wand, "can come up when you're done with breakfast."

Harry smirked. "I bet your mom made you an extra load of waffles." Ron's face brightened and he dashed downstairs. Ginny followed him, a bit more dignified, but not by much. When they were gone Harry turned to Hermione. "And what do you want to practice today?"

"The Confundus Charm, somehow my focus is off with my new wand," replied Hermione immediately, "And I want to try wandless magic."

"Too bad that we have to go back to our shop," said Fred regretfully. "We would like to attend a few more lessons, Harry. Well then, your order is noted. Bye." Fred and George waved cheerfully and then retreated to their room. Hermione sighed in displeasure, although Harry really had no idea about what she could be annoyed.

"Alright, let me get my wand and then we'll start." Harry quickly got his wand, and together they climbed up the three storeys to the warded room.

Ron and Ginny joined them half an hour later, already laughing about the prank the twins had played on them. Harry was feeling exceptionally well, as if the start of a new year had given him new energy.

Their lesson was interesting and productive, and they managed to reacquaint themselves with a lot of basic spells many of which could be used in battle.

Hermione, for one, discovered, that they could use a grinding spell for maiming some Death Eater's foot. The spell was mainly used in Potions class when the ingredient they intended to grind was too delicate or too expensive to grind by hand. It was a damage that could be easily healed by a professional healer but not so weak to be useless.

The day was quickly over. Harry didn't even really notice when Mrs Weasley called them down for lunch, or when Snape swept one last time past him, sneering at Hermione, before Flooing back to Hogwarts. The twins had left after breakfast, unnoticed by Harry, Ron, Hermione or Ginny, but in a cloud of green, stinking smoke, and for dinner Mr Weasley was finally back from the Ministry. He looked so rumpled that Harry decided he must have had a lot of trouble there. He silently wondered what he had done there but refrained from asking Ginny or Ron; they clearly had no idea, either.

During the following few days Hermione made them do all their remaining homework, reminding them that the NEWTs were only one and a half years away. Ron and Harry mocked her good-naturedly but sat at their workload nonetheless. Ginny tagged along, thrilled that she was included in all their conversations about Umbridge and Fudge.

In their homework-free time they locked themselves in the warded room and practised a lot of spells from their new study program. The others would be glad to have a few people show them how they worked, and Harry had an idea how he could shut Zacharias Smith up for at least a month.

Harry also thought a lot about how his pocket mirror should work. He had quite a few ideas onhow to decide whether somebody was trustworthy or not, and when he was finally satisfied he went to Remus and Sirius, and both helped him charm the mirror. Harry tried it out immediately. To his great relief the charm worked flawlessly. The mirror was slipped into the free back pocket of his jeans, ready to be used at any time.

-------

On Saturday Sirius morosely looked over the breakfast table at Harry. Remus patted his arm in consolation, but Sirius didn't look as if he wanted to be consoled.

"Siri, he _has_ to go back, and you know it," said Remus softly. "Dumbledore wants him back in the castle so nobody will know he was away in the first place."

"I'm not stupid, Moony, I know that," growled Sirius irritably. He looked longingly at Harry, and Harry looked longingly back.

"I don't want to go, either," said Harry quietly. "And I wish I could stay during the summer."

Hermione looked decidedly in her book and not at the scene in front of her, but Harry knew that she felt sorry for them. Ron's concern was visibly displayed on his open face, and Ginny sighed in pity.

Mrs Weasley clucked her tongue. "Now, boys, it's not the end of the world! You can see each other during the Easter break."

Sirius grunted in disagreement. "No, Dumbledore said it would be too dangerous to let Harry out of his reach again. He didn't like the incident in Muggle London one bit."

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. Harry knew that she thought about something to say, but she knew, as well as them, that letters were out of question, as were visits at Hogwarts. She, of course, didn't know about the mirrors he and Sirius possessed, but then again he wouldn't tell her about them if he could avoid it.

They finished breakfast in silence. Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny walked up to Harry's room to help him pack while Mrs Weasley stayed in the kitchen to clean up, despite the perfectly capable house elf.

"I will talk to Sirius about Buckbeak," said Harry while throwing some shirts into his bag. "I hope he and Remus can convince Dumbledore to allow the mission, otherwise Sirius and Beaky are being driven insane, always cooped up in the house."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, the poor thing has been sitting in the attic the whole time. I daren't think when was the last time he was let out."

"Yeah, we'll help you, mate," said Ron lamely. He still held a great deal of respect for Buckbeak and his sharp talons.

"Thank you," said Harry, putting socks and a pair of jeans away. "Now where's my pullover?"

"On your bed," supplied Hermione helpfully. She retrieved it for him and stuffed it into the bag. Something meowed from under the covers, and Hermione squealed. "Crookshanks! Where have you been?" Harry couldn't even remember having seen the cat around. Hermione hadn't mentioned him so he must have stayed in the girls' room.

Ginny giggled. "I bet he was hiding from all the noise of the New Year's Party."

Hermione stroked Crookshanks fluffy, big head and then proceeded to caress him under his chin. "My poor baby. Where all the people too loud for you, darling?"

Her crooning made Ron roll his eyes, but Harry smiled and closed the zipper of his bag with a determined movement. Then Remus and Sirius came in and demanded a last few minutes with Harry alone. Grinning, Hermione, Ginny and Ron left. Crookshanks meowed from under Hermione's arm, a bundle of contentment.

When they were gone Sirius embraced Harry and held on him tightly. "I really wish I could be there for you," he said quietly.

Harry, who was squeezing back rather tightly himself, shrugged. "You are. And we will get Pettigrew somehow, you'll see. And as soon as you're cleared and pardoned I'll come live with you two."

Remus patted Harry's hair and sighed. "We're sorry, Harry. We know how much you hate the Dursleys, and we tried to get Dumbledore to let you come to us last summer, but it didn't work."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, he said my aunt is protecting me. As long as she lets me live there and I can call it home Voldemort won't find me."

Ha!" snorted Sirius angrily. "As if they needed Voldemort for that! That bitch Umbridge set Dementors on you! I'll get her for that, even if I have to spend another twelve years in Azkaban!"

"Now," growled Remus darkly. "Don't even think about it, Black."

Sirius slumped a bit, crushing Harry with the weight of his arms. "All right, all right," he muttered. "But Harry, promise me to mirror-call as often as possible. And if something strange happens, tell us."

"I will," promised Harry. "And you tell me if you find some good Wiccans." Remus and Sirius nodded, grinning. Harry sighed. "And would you, please, let Buckbeak go back into the Forbidden Forest? Hagrid is missing him terribly."

Sirius pulled back, raking his hands through his hair. "I know I should, but he's a good friend. Who will make sure he isn't killed on sight? Fudge still has this death sentence for him."

"He's smart," said Harry firmly. "He'll fly back without being seen, and nobody will dare go into the forest just to kill him. Besides, Hagrid told me there are some really odd beasts in there that nobody is brave enough to face."

"What if those beasts kill him?" Sirius asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

"They won't. But boredom will kill him eventually," Harry pressed on gently. "How often can you let him fly, over Muggle London no less? And when did he catch his last prey himself?"

"You sound like Remus," said Sirius quietly. "And Lily. She never wanted us to hold animals that belonged in the wilderness."

"And she was right," said Remus. "Sirius, Buckbeak has lived here for two years already, and if we coop him up any longer he might die from it."

"You won't stop pestering me, will you?" Sirius fell back on Harry's bed and stared up at the canopy. "Okay, I'll let him go, but I'll go with him."

Remus sputtered in outrage. "You can't possibly mean that, Sirius Black!"

"I'll see him to that forest," Sirius insisted stubbornly. "And then I'll take a Portkey back. You better talk to Dumbledore about that, otherwise I'll have to Apparate, and you know I still have to buy a new wand at Ollivander's."

Remus sighed in defeat. "Fine, I'll tell Dumbledore about your completely ridiculous and insane plan. Don't get yourself killed, Black, I'm warning you."

Harry could tell that Remus was severely pissed when he rushed from the room, slamming the door in the process. Sirius laughed and sat up suddenly. "He's like a mother hen sometimes, isn't he?" Harry remained mute, just cocked an eyebrow. "Oh well, do you have anything left to pack?"

"No," said Harry. "Everything I brought is in my bag. I'm leaving my presents here, okay?" He grinned. "Everything but the broom kit. It's fantastic! I can't wait to try it out."

"I wish I could come visit you," said Sirius wistfully. "In your third year I almost died to see you fly. I just had to. I'm still sorry for scaring you."

"Well, the Creeveys have found a way to film the matches, don't ask me how. They already said they want to film the match Gryffindor against Slytherin. Maybe I can send it to you."

"Cool!" said Sirius in astonishment. "And is it really like the Muggle movies?"

"Yup." Harry smiled. "Okay, I have to go. Remus is waiting I guess, and you blackmailed him enough for a day." He hugged Sirius and then got up. "Let's go."

Sirius shooed Harry out of his room and took his bag. Again it looked as if he was carrying something of minor weight around, although it was heavy enough to strain Harry's arm after carrying it for too long a time_._ Not that he had to since he had come here with a Portkey and would leave with one.

In the Living Room everybody was there to see Harry off. Mrs Weasley handed him a huge bag of leftover Christmas cookies, Mr Weasley shook his hand, telling him to take care. Ron hugged him awkwardly whereas Ginny and Hermione both jumped him as if he would never come back again.

"We'll see you at school," said Hermione, smoothing the wrinkles she had made into his shirt. "Try to practise some more and kick Smith's ass."

Harry just smirked and ruffled her already bushy hair even more. Remus beckoned Harry over and Harry hugged Sirius again and told him to be careful when he brought Buckbeak back in the Forbidden Forest. Then it was almost time and Harry stepped up to Remus, putting a finger on the old, dusty toy horse. It was the size of Remus' hand and was made of wood; Harry irrationally thought that Dudley would have never played with a toy like that.

"Okay, Harry, three, two, one–," whispered Remus.

Then there was a pull behind Harry's navel and they were gone from Nr 12, Grimmauld Place in a heart beat. Just a second later Harry's feet collided painfully with the cold stone floor of Hogwarts.

"Oof!" grunted Harry. The pain seared up to his shoulders, but at least he had managed to stay on his feet this time.

Remus next to him put the horse away and calmly offered him a steadying arm. Grateful for the support Harry took it. Remus even carried his bag.

"So, what will you do with the last two days of freedom?" he asked softly.

"Try some new moves," said Harry weakly, trying to keep his breakfast down his throat. "'Mione made us do all our homework so there's nothing else to do."

"Good," said Remus. "I assume you already covered a bit of your study plan?"

"Yeah, a bit," replied Harry and raised an eyebrow. "But you won't go to Dumbledore now, will you?"

Remus chuckled. "Of course not. I promised, besides, you are the troublemaking nephew I never had, so we have a certain tolerance for mischief and secret affairs."

"Cool. Does that mean you'll shower me with sweets every time you see me?" Harry grinned impishly, feeling much better already.

"You might be the troublemaking nephew I never had, but I certainly won't spoil you. You've got Sirius to do that." Remus grinned back, patting Harry's hand that was looped around his arm. "We're there." He turned and looked Harry in the eyes. "Take care. Sirius wants me to tell you not to annoy Snape too much. He has hada bit of trouble with the Death Eaters lately, so give him some peace."

"Okay," Harry ground out reluctantly. "But let me annoy Blackadder. She deserves it just as much."

Remus just shrugged. "If you want to. The best thing that could happen would be if she left Hogwarts at the end of the year."

"Just like every other DADA teacher so far," said Harry and rolled his eyes. "Don't give Sirius a hard time because of Buckbeak. He'll miss him, and he hates to be in the house all day."

"I don't think he'll be at home too often," replied Remus airily. He then smiled and pulled Harry in a tight hug. "Take care and call us as soon as you can, okay?"

"Okay." Harry took the bag from the floor. "Are you going to see Dumbledore now?"

"Yes. Want me to greet him or something?" Remus pulled his coat around himself, idly playing with the sash.

Harry smirked. "Actually, no. I'll see him soon enough."

"Well then, take care, Harry." Remus waved and turned around, walking down the corridor at a leisurely pace.

Harry watched him until he had disappeared and then turned around to the Fat Lady to give the password.

"Isn't he a sweetheart?" the Fat Lady crooned longingly. "Little Remus Lupin."

Harry cuffed her frame playfully and told her the password, making her giggle. He quickly stepped inside and climbed up the stairs to his dorm. It was time to unpack and do something useful. Now he could do magic without having to fear the Ministry's decree about underage magic. He quickly spelled his things out of the bag and back into his drawers and trunk, then he took his study plan and sauntered out of Gryffindor Tower to find the Room of Requirement. Dobby would surely help him if he asked, so he wished for some cushions and then called for Dobby.

-------

Sunday evening came loudly and with some excitement. First the carriages arrived, spewing happy students out. And then a steady stream of children from eleven to seventeen clambered into the castle, bringing mud and coldness with them, but also laughter and talking. Harry, who was standing a bit aside to admit them all in, could almost feel the thrum of energy the hundredths of students brought with them.

Harry looked for his friends, but all he got to see was Malfoy who swaggered up to him, smirking in an infuriatingly smug way.

"Why, isn't that Saint Potter who had to spend his holidays here?" Malfoy asked. Harry thought his voice sounded more meaningful than his words allowed. "How was it, Wonder Boy, to be all alone on Christmas?"

"Not all that bad, Malfoy," replied Harry coolly, "Especially when I didn't have to see your ferret face."

Pansy to Malfoy's left bristled angrily, but Malfoy silenced her with a cool wave of his hand. The blonde's eyes travelled down from Harry's face to his neck, resting on the pendant he wore on a leather band.

"Nice necklace, Potter," said Malfoy slowly, looking back up and directly in Harry's eyes. "And so _unique_."

Harry's face grew hot. He knew exactly what Malfoy was playing at: he had worn the pendant at their outing in Muggle London, and Malfoy must have seen it there. Sometimes Harry thought he was so stupid it hurt.

They stared at each other, daring the other to say something, to give the secret away. But surprisingly Malfoy didn't seem to want to share with Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle. At least not yet.

Finally Malfoy turned away from Harry, smirking. "Gods, Potter, if paying you a compliment gets your tongue like that I would have started a lot sooner. It would have saved me countless times of your brainless blundering." He swaggered off, and his three cronies followed obligingly, snickering madly.

Harry's face was still burning when Ron and Hermione found him five minutes later. He quickly led his friends up to their common room. He was dying to tell them about it but wondered if they would make more of it than it was. He wasn't in Muggle London anymore, was he? So Voldemort couldn't do anything to Harry, even if Malfoy told him that he had been there, in the same restaurant as his prized right hand man.

They had one hour before dinner started, and Harry's news would be told in thirty seconds, so he beckoned Ron and Hermione on his bed and told them what had occurred down in the hallway.

"What? Malfoy recognised your pendant?" Hermione asked. "Ha. Trust the Ferret to spot something of value." She huffed. "And you do know that you mustn't wear this ever again when you're disguised."

"Yeah, I know," said Harry.

Ron cocked his head. "You wore Bill's pendant in London? Wait until I tell him about that, he'll laugh himself silly."

"I don't think that this should get out," said Hermione briskly. "I mean, Malfoy can't do anything since they aren't in London anymore, but still."

Harry grimaced. "Malfoy will take care of that when he sees fit to do so," he said. "As if he could keep his mouth shut. He didn't tell Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson, though." Harry thought that Malfoy's remark about him and compliments were nothing his friends would be interested in, so he quickly changed the topic and jumped up from his bed. "Let's go, it's almost time for dinner."

"Yeah, I'm hungry," agreed Ron wholeheartedly and jumped up eagerly.

"When are you not, Ron Weasley," said Hermione in exasperation and rolled her eyes. But she pocketed her wand nonetheless in the sleeve of her shirt, pulled her robe's sleeves down and stood up as well.

When they stepped down into the common room Dean, Seamus and Lee were teasing Neville with his Remembrall. But it was a friendly teasing, not the malicious teasing Malfoy had done in their first year.

"Come on, Neville, you don't need it," said Dean. "I've got to remember Ginny's birthday and I know I'll just forget it with all the homework McGonagall and Snape will give us."

"Yeah, and we know how Ginny gets when somebody forgets her birthday," said Seamus and glanced meaningfully at Ron. Ron subconsciously caressed the back of his head and grimaced. Hermione smirked. "Anyway, can we have it, Neville? We promise to give it back as soon as her birthday is over, alright?"

Neville looked doubtful and embarrassed. "What if I forget something important? I don't want to step on Snape's toes."

"You won't," said Hermione forcefully. "We'll help you remember everything."

"Speaking of remembering," said Harry and grinned. "The next meeting is next Saturday." He pulled his wand from his pocket and spelled date and time on the fake galleon. Everybody in the DA carried their galleon with them at all times; they had agreed on that in case they were in need of an emergency meeting.

"Cool, I wanted to pull my wand and try out all the time, even on Boxing Day," said Seamus cheerfully. "But I missed my lovely boyfriend very much, too …"

"How is it to go out with Blaise?" Harry asked with badly veiled interest.

"Oh, he's wonderful," said Seamus dreamily. "Smart, interesting, beautiful …"

"If you like boys," said Dean and shrugged. "He's not so bad."

"I like him" said Harry with a final tone and looked at each of his friends. "Anyway, I think you'll like what I have in mind." He turned to Ron and Hermione. "Shall we go then? I can hear your stomach growling, Ron."

The three left, leaving a bickering Seamus, Dean and Neville behind. Harry knew Neville would lend his friends the Remembrall eventually; he was just too friendly. But his friends loved him for his big heart and tried to help him when he had problems.

"Do you think Dean will get Ginny something nice for her birthday?" Hermione asked thoughtfully. "I mean, they have beendating for almost a year now and it's getting serious."

"If he does so much as lay a finger on her I'll kill him," grunted Ron sourly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly. She's almost sixteen, Ron," she said. "Give her a break."

"And should I give you a break, too?" said Ron in a clipped voice. "Vicky isn't here to see you after all, right?"

"I'm not seeing Viktor!" cried Hermione and blushed. A few students, who were standing in their way, snickered. "I'm not, Ron! We're just good friends."

"Ha, as if you could be something else, with him in Bulgaria and you here at Hogwarts." Ron crossed his arms and scowled moodily.

Hermione lowered her head angrily and refused to look at Ron until they had reached the Great Hall. Unfortunately they had to pass by Malfoy and his gang, and the blonde could be rather perceptive at the most inopportune moments

"What's up, Granger? Lover's spat?" Malfoy sneered. Pansy and Goyle snickered in amusement.

Hermione flashed him an angry look and stalked away, but Ron whirled around to Malfoy and balled his hands to fists. "Shut your foul trap, Malfoy, or we'll announce your engagement to Parkinson in front of the whole school right at the fest."

Malfoy paled a bit and scooted away from a suddenly simpering Pansy. "You do that and you'll not live to see the next day, Weasel," hissed Malfoy, mortified.

Ron sneered smugly and turned to follow Hermione. Pansy tried to grab Malfoy's arm but Malfoy shook her off every time. Goyle and Crabbe watched the activity with the same stupid interest a dog paid a bone it couldn't reach.

Harry cocked an eyebrow in amusement and chuckled softly. "You know, Malfoy, if you're embarrassed about your girlfriend, just say so. Just for you we will increase our funny remarks. Honestly."

Malfoy glared at Harry, hissed at Pansy and stalked off. Harry grinned and went away to join Ron and Hermione at the Gryffindor table. Both were still brooding, but after giving Malfoy some of his own Harry felt simply great. Hungrily he shovelled fish and chips into his mouth, watching Malfoy who played morosely with some salad and potatoes. Blaise had apparently pushed Pansy aside to keep Malfoy some company, but his unconcerned and even cocky expression told Harry that he was either not very sorry for Malfoy's dismay or even outright amused at his expense.

"What's up with you?" asked Angelina who sat down next to Harry. "You seem to be in a good mood."

"I am," replied Harry and put some fish on her plate.

"So, next Saturday is our next meeting? I'm looking forward to it," said Alicia quietly, sitting down at Harry's other side. "Oh, and the party was great. I'm sorry for Hermione, though. Fainting in Snape's arms like that. Wait, I have some pictures somewhere I meant to give you on the train … I figured too late that you wouldn't come with us." She rummaged through her pockets and produced two pictures. "Here. It is so cute!"

Harry took them, ignoring Hermione's death glare. One was of the infamous kiss, initiated through the even more infamous Kiss Cocktail, courtesy of the twins. Snape's face showed a strange mix of emotions. For one he clearly had been a little bit drunk already when McGonagall tricked him into drinking from her bottle. Then there was annoyance. And then something Harry couldn't quite place. Hermione's face was easier to decipher. She was shocked and surprised, but not entirely unpleasantly so. Harry wondered how much she had drunk when Snape had accompanied her through the massof people. Both clearly didn't look as revolted as they probably should have, but then again, it only helped to make the picture more interesting.

Harry choked on a swig of pumpkin juice when picture-Hermione looped her arms around pictue-Snape's neck and kissed back in earnest and picture-Snape wrapped his arms around Hermione's waist to keep her close and hold her up against him.

Angelina laughed smugly. "They're going at it all the time, really!" she said, causing Hermione to blush even more. "I bet Snape didn't have any for _years_!"

Alicia smirked. "And I bet Hermione would _die_ to get some."

Harry saw that Hermione was pulling out her wand and hastily took the other photo. It showed indeed in best wizarding photo style how Hermione staggered up to Snape, said something and promptly fainted after doing so. Snape caught her, scowling profusely at Harry.

"How does he do it?" Harry asked, amazed. Picture-Snape was still glaring as if daring Harry to say something.

"He's Snape," said Alicia and chuckled. She leaned closer. "Do you want them?"

"Hell, yeah," murmured Harry, glancing at a murderous Hermione. "I would even pay for them." He stuffed the photos in his pocket and poured Angelina and Alicia some juice. "By the way, where's Katie?"

"Oh, she wanted to write a letter to George," said Angelina. "She misses him a lot. Not that I don't miss Fred, but it's good to have a small break from him every now and then." She scooted closer and giggled. "Especially when they always come on to us together." She rolled her eyes. "Did you notice the way theytalk when they want to confuse somebody? It's creeping me out!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, but I think it's cool." He remembered fondly the numerous occasions where Fred and George had done their infamous twin-talk, and somehow he never got tired of hearing it.

Then Seamus, Dean and Neville bustled into the Great Hall and took seats around Ron and Hermione. Colin and Dennis Creevey pouted but made room for them nonetheless, and Lee managed to squeeze in next to Alicia. After a friendly wave all four boys started to devour their dinner.

Later at night Harry was lying awake for a long time. In one hand he held the photos of Hermione and Snape, in the other his wand. Soft light shone on the glossy surface of the pictures. Harry pondered whether Snape was so sour because nobody seemed to like him or whether he was so sour because nobody liked him for having to act like a complete git. Harry knew that Snape had to favour his own house to show Voldemort some loyalty; Harry wondered how long Snape would be able to keep it up. The lying, the spying, the fear for his life. Was he ever tired of it all?

On those photos Snape seemed more carefree than Harry had ever seen him. He still hated the man, but he would be damned if he would deny him every little pleasure. And if it meant to have Hermione go through some embarrassing moments, well …

Shuddering, Harry waved the light away.

Now I just sounded like Dumbledore, he thought in disgust. Ugh. I need to apologise to 'Mione first thing tomorrow.

----------

Monday morning came slowly. In Harry's dorm everybody had a hard time getting up. When they finally did they were ten minutes later than usual and argued who got to use the showers first. Harry finally gave up and used a cleaning charm on himself and a refreshing charm for his clothes for good measure. Trying to comb his hair and brush his teeth at the same time, he slipped into his trainers and spotted his schoolbag. They had Charms first thing in the morning, and he had yet to stuff his homework into his bag. Flitwick might be a nice teacher, but he punished torn up homework just as every other teacher did.

"Harry! We are going to be late for breakfast!" screeched Hermione impatiently. "Come on, I need my coffee!"

Harry stumbled into the boys' bathroom and rinsed his mouth. "I'm coming!" he yelled downstairs. He made a mad dash to his trunk and started to stuff his books, some parchment and a quill into it. His ink bottle tried to hide behind his Potions textbook; Dean had spelled it yesterday night so it could walk and squeak little phrases. He snatched it and threw it into the bag, too. When Hermione yelled again he finally found his Charms homework under a pile of notes for the DA and quickly snatched it up.

Hermione and Ginny led the grunting and protesting group of boys into the Great Hall. Several students from the other house tables laughed at their dishevelled appearance; most of them were in the DA. Harry and his friends ignored the jibes that came from the Slytherin table and helped themselves to oatmeal, toast and kippers. They had found out that ignoring them made them only more angry whilst they could laugh themselves silly about their anger. It worked well and until now the Slytherins hadn't found out that they served for countless moments of amusement among the Gryffindors.

After breakfast they made their way to Flitwick's classroom. On their way Cho suddenly appeared in a corridor and stared at Harry. Harry pretended not to notice her and brusquely walked away. Only one minute later, when they had rounded a corner, Seamus caught up with him.

"Hey mate, what's up with you and her? Trouble?" Seamus asked quietly.

"No. There's nothing with me and her," said Harry shortly. "Nothing at all."

But Seamus was persistent. "And why is she looking at you like that?"

"I don't know," hissed Harry, now slowly getting angry. "Look, I know I'm not good with girls, all right? Just drop it."

"Okay," said Seamus, sounding a bit hurt.

The whole troupe marched into the classroom and spread over the room, each student taking their seat. Hermione and Ron sat to Harry's right and left side, their favourite position to talk to him. Hermione could nudge him awake if need be and Ron was far away enough from Hermione to sleep undisturbed.

"Hello, welcome back!" squeaked Flitwick happily. "I hope you all had a wonderful New Year. Now your homework, please. _Accio_!" With swishes and whooshes parchments from all over the room sailed to Flitwick, burying him under a pile of scrolls. "Thank you," he squawked. Flitwick shrunk the scrolls and stuffed them into a bag. He then jumped onto his chair and looked at them. "Open your books on page one hundred and thirty two, please. Today we will learn the first of five obscuring charms."

Professor Spout greeted them similarly. She winked at Harry, Hermione and Ron before she collected the holiday assignment, and thanked them for a wonderful party after everybody was gone from the room. Harry and Ron just shook their heads while Hermione giggled behind her hands.

Professor Blackadder's lesson, however, was something everybody plainly could do without. The woman looked just as she had before the holidays. She wore a dark red cape and rings with some gems on her fingers. Her long, dark brown hair was braided and hung down her back.

When everybody was seated Blackadder stood up and smiled at them benignly. "Hello students," she said in her calm voice. "I trust you all came well through the New Year's festivities and are now fresh and eager for the next steps in our lessons." She pulled her wand out and let a screen unroll itself. "Today I'll tell you a bit about the rules for Grounding. Please take out parchment and a quill and pay attention."

Hermione raised her hand impatiently. "Professor, I could tell what Grounding is and for what it's important–"

"Not today, Miss Granger," said Blackadder. "Somebody competent should introduce you to the finer branches of Wicca Magic."

Hermione snorted unsubtly and crossed her arms, not even trying to pretend that she was willing to take notes. Blackadder, however, ignored her attempt at boycotting her lesson and started to drone about Grounding.

"The first rule for Grounding is respect," said Professor Blackadder mistily. In that moment she reminded Harry greatly of Professor Trelawney. "You must respect Nature and focus on the elements. Grounding is important before each and every ritual; you must be cleaned of all negative and disturbing energy. Now, you can use these plants …"

Harry tuned Blackadder's endless rambling out and started to doodle on his paper. He drew Buckbeak, Hagrid and even Malfoy in his typical, sneering manner. When the bell rang, Ron nudged Harry out of his stupor. If Hermione's tight face was any indication he hadn't missed anything of importance. And really, as soon as they left the classroom Hermione erupted in a tirade of heated, indignant spluttering.

"And I heard at least three plants that are absolutely not used in any ritual, Grounding, or other practice! I can't believe she's even allowed to teach! Just wait until she wants us to try the rubbish she teaches us!" Moaning and ranting she stalked to Gryffindor Tower, dragging Ron and Harry with her.

"Was it really that bad?" said Ron quietly when they emptied their bags in their dorm to put their book for Care of Magical Creatures in.

"I don't know," replied Harry tiredly. "All I remember is, that this hour went by very slowly."

Laughing, they went down to the Great Hall for lunch. Luna passed them by and asked how the first lesson had been. Harry tactfully explained that she might be disappointed. Luna seemed to understand perfectly well and went to her table, sitting next to Cho Chang.

Hermione sat next to Harry and helped him, Ron and herself to soup. "Cho looked as if she wanted something from you, Harry," she said. "I hope she'll stay away from you; we don't need any more trouble right now."

Harry picked at the thick, white beans and his sausage and frowned. "I don't know what she wants. I thought I made it perfectly clear what I thought about the whole thing."

Ron laughed. "Wow, Harry, your first stalking girlfriend!"

"She's not _stalking_," said Harry darkly. "And she's certainly not my girlfriend." He shoved a spoonful of soup into his mouth and chewed morosely. "And I don't think we ever were … you know, together. The one date we had was awful, and I really don't want to do that again, ever."

The door that led directly up to the Head Table banged open and Snape strode in. He looked positively lethal, and Blackadder, who was unfortunately seated next to him, scooted away a foot. Snape sat down gracefully and managed to glare at Harry all the time while he did so. Harry wondered what crime he might have committed this time. Then Snape's dark gaze flickered over to Hermione and Ron before he scowled and gulped down a glass of a liquid that suspiciously looked like red wine.

"What's up with him now?" said Ron in bewilderment.

"That looks bad for us," mumbled Hermione. "Did you see his glare?"

"I wonder if we should commit suicide right away or wait until he gives us a reason," said Harry.

Seamus patted Harry on the shoulder before he stole his sausage right from his plate. "What have you done now?" he asked cheerfully. "Did you, er, _borrow_ something from his cabinet again?"

Harry swatted Seamus and summoned his sausage back with a quick, wandless spell. Nobody but him and Seamus had seen, and the boy was suitably impressed. "No, we didn't," said Harry firmly. "Now please refrain from raiding my plate and get your own food, will you?"

Seamus gaped at him and went back to his seat after a few seconds. Harry felt ready to burst because it had worked, even if it was just a sausage he had summoned. He ignored Hermione's and Ron's inquisitive glances and started to eat his prize. Now he was suddenly very hungry, and not even Care of Magical Creatures with the Slytherins could change that.

After finishing lunch, they went out of the castle, together with their fellow Gryffindors and the Slytherins. Seamus and Blaise walked together, not caring that Nott and Pansy glared at them. Harry wondered if the two would start holding hands soon; as it seemed they had no sense of secrecy and that they were not ashamed of their relationship. Malfoy didn't look as if he cared at all whereas Crabbe and Goyle turned around a few times to boggle at the pair disbelievingly.

When they finally arrived at Hagrid's hut (the walk down there was dangerous because of all the ice, and Dean had almost slipped at one point, sliding precariously on the edge of the hill) everybody was shivering and cursing about soaked trousers, shoes and cloaks. The heavy clouds looked as if they would soon grace them with a lot of new snow.

Hagrid emerged from his warm hut. Fang followed him eagerly, running straight to Harry, Ron and Hermione to nuzzle their legs and sides.

"'Ello students!" boomed Hagrid happily, "Welcome back ter yer second term. I hope yer all made some goo' wishes fer the new year."

"Of course," said Malfoy maliciously. "For example that we get another teacher for this stupid subject!"

Hagrid pretended to not hear him and turned to indicate a paddock that lay a bit nearer to the Forbidden Forest. "Terday we will start on the 'Arpies, kids. Wonderful creatures, just a bit, erm, wild. Now, follow me if yer will …" He started to stomp down the narrow, icy pathway, shoving snow out of his way with his mighty boots.

When they arrived at the paddock, several students let out strangled gasps. On the wooden bars of the fence sat, like huge vultures, five black Harpies. They were cowering together in the cold and looked like ruddy crows.

"Uuuh!" said Lavender Brown. Harry wondered if this was her standard response to everything new or strange she saw.

"Merlin, they are so ugly," said Malfoy disdainfully. "The ones we have at home are a lot better."

"Ah, yer have experience with 'Arpies, then?" Hagrid asked with a hint of maliciousness behind his voice. "Then yer won't mind telling us a bit about 'em."

"Of course not," said Malfoy and sniffed. "Harpies are the biggest of the winged beasts in Great Britain. Contrary to dragons, they have all the characteristics of birds, only that their faces are those of women. Harpies usually live in countries that are warmer than ours, which is why we don't have any deaths due to Harpy attacks. But it is said that a small Harpy population settled down in the south of England.

"Harpies usually use their voice to shriek, which is, next to their less than beautiful appearance, why people don't like them. It is not commonly known, however, that Harpies can sing as sweet as a Phoenix if they want to. They can't heal wounds but soothe the mind and even bring sweet dreams. The only wizard that was ever able to befriend a Harpy was Merlin himself."

Hermione raised her hand and Hagrid motioned her to speak. "Harpies are, despite the myths, dangerous creatures that live to kill. Their main prey are Fire Lizards, dragonets, even Unicorns if they can get them somehow. Humans who hear their voice are paralysed with fear. Their shriek is not unlike that of a banshee, only that it is not as strong.

"Harpies are also rather intelligent and can, like Phoenixes, carry heavy weights over long distances. They have a life span of approximately one hundred years and usually don't come near humans. But there are reported cases of child theft, and it has been proved that they were raised as the Harpies' own. It is a proven fact that these children grow up to be full-fledged Harpies of their own and continue the line. Scientists still argue about whether all Harpies are turned children or if Harpies have a way to reproduce themselves without stealing human children."

"Then I have some news for you, Granger," said Malfoy haughtily. "The Harpies we have at home are purebred for eight generations. They had no possibility to transform children." He smirked. "And this bit will interest you: True Harpies have a much greater resemblance to vultures than the mix-breeds. My theory is that they slowly lose their ability to contain magic if they don't assimilate wizards into their population. They are also weaker and can't use their voice to paralyse their prey."

Hermione stared at Malfoy in astonishment. "So the true form of a Harpy is a vulture? Why did I never read anything about it?"

Malfoy smirked. "Granger, you can't know everything." He shrugged elegantly. "Well, father meant to write a book about the whole thing but I guess he didn't want to spoil his reputation as politician." He sneered when Harry and Ron coughed ominously. "So it is highly unlikely that you'll ever find anything about the topic that is worth reading."

Just when Harry started to wonder about Malfoy's relatively neutral tone of voice, Pansy Parkinson latched onto his arm and sneered at Hermione. "Bad luck, isn't it, Miss Know-It-All?" she asked sweetly. To her great annoyance Hermione just rolled her eyes.

"Parkinson, if there was something worth my while about Harpies I would have already read it, I assure you," said Hermione haughtily, regarding Pansy with utmost disgust. "But not everybody is so lucky to have Harpies at home," she sneered at Malfoy, "and study their mating habits extensively."

Malfoy blushed pink and shook Pansy off his arm violently. "Why, Granger–," he snarled.

"Ten points ter Slytherin an' Gryffindor," said Hagrid into the tense moment, successfully breaking the impending fight off. Hermione and Malfoy relaxed visibly but were still glaring at each other. "Now lets go ter 'em an' see if they want ter eat something …"

The whole class followed him reluctantly to the big beasts. Harry shuddered when he saw the ugly faces of the Harpies. Their eyes were big and brown; intelligence shone out of them, but it was the kind of intelligence that made good predators. They made small, shrieking noises when Hagrid approached.

"Now careful," said Hagrid. "Yer can come near 'em, it is too cold fer 'em ter attack yer properly."

"Now I feel much better," said Ron sarcastically.

Harry grinned. Hagrid beckoned them closer still, and now the girls became anxious. Lavender refused to go near the sharp talons first, then Parvati stopped, along with Millicent Bulstrode and Nott. Hermione stepped bravely forward. Pansy glared at her and tagged along, all the while trying to get Malfoy's attention.

"Yer can feed 'em with 'ese dead Fire Lizards," said Hagrid confidently. "Go ahead, they can't do nothin' in this weather."

A Harpy shrieked sadly as if confirming Hagrid's sentiment. All five glared at the approaching students.

"Lovely," muttered Dean sarcastically. He weighed his Fire Lizard and then threw it at the Harpy in the middle of the bunch. Its head snapped up and caught the sailing dead Fire Lizard in its mouth. The other Harpies twittered indignantly.

Seamus snickered. "At least they can catch their food." The Harpy made wet crunching and slurping noises while eating the Fire Lizard. The girls shuddered in disgust.

"I wouldn't come near that beast if it was the last of its kind," muttered Hermione darkly, throwing her own Fire Lizard at the Harpy next to the one Dean had just fed. Three heads shot up and ripped the poor thing apart. "Ewww, gross."

Malfoy, who stood next to her, smirked. "Afraid, Granger?

"Certainly not, Malfoy," hissed Hermione back. "I just refuse to go near a creature that would love to rip my hand off."

Malfoy's eyes glittered strangely and Harry quickly positioned himself between Hermione and him. "Don't even think about it, Ferret," he growled.

Malfoy smirked and turned away to take a Fire Lizard from Goyle. "What, hero-boy, do you think I would stoop so low and push the Mudblood?"

"Yes," said Harry rudely.

"Why, I expected more from you, Potter," drawled Malfoy, flinging his Fire Lizard exactly at the fifth Harpy to the right. "I would push you first, of course."

"Of course," said Harry haughtily, stepping closer and bumping into Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle stepped menacingly closer, but a well-aimed glare from Harry made them stop dead in their tracks. "And what would Voldemort say to that?" he inched even closer, poking Malfoy in the side with his wand, just so that Hagrid couldn't see what he was doing. "Do you think he will reward you if you take his fun away?"

"What are you talking about?" said Malfoy harshly. He shook slightly, and Harry knew it was not from the cold.

"Don't you want to kill me, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly. "Go ahead and tell me, I think I can handle the truth."

"You are crazy, Potter," hissed Malfoy. He looked away and to Crabbe and Goyle, but the two just stood there, petrified. When no help was forthcoming, Malfoy looked back at Harry, the grey eyes slanted and his face screwed in an expression of disgust and fear. "Leave it, you loon!"

"Coward," spat Harry icily and let go of Malfoy's cloak. He turned around and stepped back to Ron and Hermione, who both looked a bit pale and shaken. Harry slipped his wand back into his sleeve, unnoticed by his friends, and slung his arm around Hermione's shoulder, squeezing reassuringly. Crunching sounds behind him told Harry that Malfoy was walking away.

"What did you say to him?" Ron asked quietly. "He looked as if he'd seen a Lethifold or something."

"Nothing special," replied Harry. "He's just a coward."

Hermione looked and him and Harry knew she wasn't believing him. Fortunately she didn't ask, so Ron gladly dropped the subject and threw his Fire Lizard at the left Harpy. "Look at them, they are so disgusting," he crowed. "I hope Hagrid will be done with them soon."

"For disgusting creatures you sure look enthusiastic about feeding them," retorted Hermione and rolled her eyes.

"You don't understand that, Hermione," replied Ron smugly. "You're a girl."

"Thanks for reminding me, Ron," said Hermione and turned away, muttering softly to herself.

When Care of Magical Creatures was over, Harry and his fellow Gryffindors trudged up the hill, back to the castle. Madam Hooch was already waiting for them, but she was in no particular hurry as it seemed.

"Hello students," said Hooch cheerfully. "It's good to see you back here. Now, in today's lesson will be rehearsing everything we have learned so far. Longbottom, if you're chickening out now I'll personally spank you with my favourite broom."

Neville blanched while Seamus crowed, "Wicked!" The others laughed good-naturedly and patted Neville on the shoulders.

Madam Hooch blew into her whistle and pointed at the red blanket she'd spread out on the snow-covered grass. "Now, build a line, and Potter, you really can step onto the blanket!"

The class laughed again, and then they started Apparating with practised ease. Harry relished in the feeling of moving from one place to another. Soon, after everybody managed to Apparate themselves, Hooch vanished behind the castle, ordering them to Apparate to her. Lavender Brown almost splinched herself when she attempted to Apparate to Madam Hooch. Parvati was able to pull her back in the last second, but it shook both girls quite a bit. Hermione, who had overcome her fear, snorted and muttered, "Concentration!" in Lavender's ear, much to the girl's indignation.

But the rest of the lesson passed by without problems. Lavender calmed down enough to try again, and then it worked well enough. When they were done they wandered back up to the castle, through the aisle the Slytherins had made earlier.

Harry pulled Hermione away from the others. "We have detention tonight," he said quietly, quirking a smile at her. "Do you have any idea what he'll do? I have no idea what I've done to deserve it."

Hermione smiled wryly. "Well, you know Snape. I bet he'll lecture you about going out to Muggle London and running into Death Eaters." She smiled broadly. "But we know it's not your fault, and Snape knows it, too."

Harry offered her his arm when they came up to a glazed over, icy patch of grass. "Mmh, but still. I don't believe Snape is worrying about my health. I bet he was crestfallen when he learned that Malfoy didn't kill me on the spot."

"Don't say such things," chided Hermione. "Snape _is_ worrying about you, whether you like it or not. He's just a funny way of showing it."

"Very funny," said Harry darkly. "Well, I'm curious what he has in store for _you_, 'Mione."

"I am, too," said Hermione and smiled wickedly. "I shall use my brain to annoy the hell out of him. He certainly deserves it after his stunt at New Year."

"I don't see how you can be so happy about all that," said Ron grumpily. "Just watch out for your fingers and hair, he might steal some."

Laughing, they climbed up the many stairs that led to their common room. The Fat Lady looked at them expectantly. "Password."

Hermione snorted. "United powers." She entered first when the portrait opened. "Honestly, could Dumbledore get any more tacky?"

"He could," said Seamus, grinning broadly when he climbed through the hole after her. "For example with something like 'We love Slytherin.' Wouldn't _that_ be scary?"

"You can't imagine," said Dean cheerfully. "Now, where's Ginny?"

Dean wandered off to find his girlfriend. Ron looked after him but decided against saying anything. Harry and Hermione silently breathed a sigh of relief. Neville, who was the last to enter, stumbled over his feet and crashed into the common room. The portrait slammed shut behind him.

"Ow," said Neville. He scrambled up and hastily went up to the boys' dorm.

Hermione sighed. "Shall we do our homework, Harry? It's not that much," she hastily amended when she saw the look on his face.

"Fine. But then I'll challenge you to Exploding Snap." Harry made to trudge up to his dorm, too. "Give me ten minutes, alright? I need to get out of these clothes."

Hermione nodded and so they parted ways. Harry met Ron in the dorm room. He was talking to Seamus and Dean about some Quidditch practice. When they noticed Harry they asked him if he wanted to join them, but Harry declined. He knew he needed to do his homework if he wanted to pursue a serious career as, well, something, and since they weren't playing again until April, he figured he could afford to concentrate on his studies for a while. Besides, he was still frozen and needed to warm up first.

And so he sat down on a plush couch, strewing books and scrolls of parchment all over the table while the other boys ran out to train for their next Quidditch match. Hermione next to him muttered something under her breath, digging through her own pile of parchment for a certain piece of information.

"Harry, you in there?" Hermione asked when she was done and Harry hadn't moved at all. She even waved her small hand in front of his face.

Slowly Harry woke from his inexplicable daze and looked at her. "Huh? Yeah, yeah, I'm here. Let's get started." Distractedly he picked out a random sheet out of his small pile of assignments. "Why don't we start with Charms? That's easy enough."

"If you want to," replied Hermione, cocking her head.

Harry shrugged the last remnants of that strange drowsiness off and dipped his quill into his purple ink. It was a present of Mrs Weasley and was supposed to show him eventual spelling mistakes. Harry, who had been quite a good student at grammar school found it a bit offending, but then he had seen the penmanship of some fellow students and reckoned it wasn't all that far off of Mrs Weasley to assume that he didn't care much about it, either.

And suddenly time flew by so quickly that the bell, ringing for dinner, surprised them. Harry flung his quill down and jumped up, stretching extensively. Several joints popped and only then he recognised how cramped he had become, sitting there for hours and not moving.

"How can you bear this?" Harry asked. With mild interest he saw Lavender and Parvati leave the common room, chattering excitedly with each other.

Hermione shrugged. "I make do. And I started doing Yoga a while ago. It really helps to relax."

"Yoga?" Harry asked, aghast. "I would never have thought–"

"Well, yes," said Hermione, shrugging. "It's nothing special, just stretching and some meditation. With my lack of sleep I need other sources of rest."

Harry's incredulous face softened. "You really should sleep more and work less, 'Mione. It's not fair to give you all the work."

"I'm doing it, am I not?" said Hermione and shrugged lightly. "You know I'll say something if it gets too much."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, the last time it took you only eight months to realise that you were overdoing it." He really thought back to third year fondly, but certain things they didn't need to repeat, the thing with the Time Turner, for example.

"Well, now I'm quicker on the uptake," said Hermione stubbornly. "And now let's go, I'm really hungry."

Harry sighed in good-natured exasperation and followed her out of the common room. Students were pouring down the moving stairs and along the ancient corridors to get to the Great Hall. Harry noted the relief among the other students, now that the sprigs of mistletoe were gone. Not that he blamed them, Crabbe and Goyle's attempt to molest fellow students was still a very sore point in their minds.

The huge doors that led into the Great Hall were wide open and welcoming Harry and Hermione. Almost everyone of their friends was already seated and eating, so Ron and Seamus squeezed aside to make room for them.

"So, what do you think the greasy git will make you do?" Ron asked when he was done wolfing down his first plate full of food. "I mean, he can't go too hard on you, 'Mione, and Harry, well, he didn't even do a thing to deserve it."

"I really don't know," admitted Harry.

"You have detention, Harry?" Dean asked. "However did you manage that during the holidays?"

"Oh please, as if that's important," said Hermione impatiently. "Snape never needs any excuses to get nasty."

"Too true," said Parvati. She looked at Hermione, her face an unreadable mask. "At least _you_ are giving him reasons, aren't you?"

Hermione blushed a little, although Harry really couldn't see why, and quickly turned away to pile grilled tomatoes onto her plate. Ron and Harry shared a look, and then shrugged. Harry decided to dig in. If Snape wanted something special from him tonight, like Occlumency practice, he would at least be able to repay his efforts with a ruined carpet.

The loud chatter of his housemates was somehow calming him a little. Colin and Dennis had worked on their movies over the holidays and were now handing the copies out. Each piece cost six sickles, and Harry thought they were well worth it. His fond musings, however, were quickly disturbed when the brothers approached him and happily offered a copy as a late Christmas present. Especially Colin was making cow eyes, and it unnerved Harry greatly.

"Thanks," mumbled Harry when Colin and Dennis insisted that he take the picture frame.

"Oh, anything for you, Harry," said Dennis excitedly. "Colin and I are thinking about a movie about you, you know. It would be a mega-seller!"

"Oh, Harry," chirped Hermione, right on time. "We have to go now, or we're going to be late for detention with Snape."

Relieved, Harry said goodbye to the Creeveys and quickly slid off the long bench. Hermione followed him out of the Great Hall. Ron, Dean and Seamus bid them good luck, attracting some attention to their departure.

"Thanks," said Harry to Hermione once they had rounded the first corner. "I don't know how they're doing it, but they're freaking me out."

"Understandable," replied Hermione gently. "By the way, we're ten minutes early. Do you want to come down with me, anyway?"

"Yeah, what would I do in ten minutes?" said Harry and smiled. "But I'm still rather hungry. Care to go down to the kitchen later?"

"Alright." Hermione pulled her wand out of her sleeve and lightened the dark corridors. "Oh my, why can't Snape put some more lamps in his dungeons?"

"I bet he's taking the risk of students breaking their necks," retorted Harry dryly. "The more are dying the less he has to teach." Their steps echoed in the cold and dark corridor, and a few spiders scurried out of the bright wand light.

"How cynical of you," said Hermione teasingly. "Don't you think that Snape has at least one single compassionate bone in his body?"

"One, maybe," conceded Harry. "But it's a really small one, like the smallest bone in his right ear."

"Oh, you!" Hermione giggled and pulled her cloak tighter around her body.

They arrived at the door of Snape's office. Since neither was very keen on going in earlier than they had to they settled for waiting until eight o'clock came. Surprisingly, two minutes to eight Crabbe and Goyle shuffled up to them, prodded by an irate Malfoy.

"I swear, you two big oafs are thicker than Dimble's Dry Paste," said Malfoy, fuming. "Now stay here, understood?" Crabbe and Goyle grunted in reply. Malfoy dusted his hands off, clearly disgusted about their stupidity. He then looked disdainfully at Hermione and Harry. "Potter, what did you do now?" he asked in exasperation, his face shining with malicious interest.

"Oh, I'm still breathing, I guess," said Harry nonchalantly.

Malfoy looked at him strangely, but he caught himself quickly and turned to Hermione. "And Granger, your little feud paid off, I see. How long do you have to sit it out?"

"I doubt that you don't know it already," replied Hermione calmly. "But if you must know, two months, Malfoy." She waved her wand a little, causing Malfoy to take a small step back. This, however, did nothing to lessen his haughty attitude.

Malfoy's mouth quirked up in a little smirk. "Ah, I see." His grey eyes glinted in Hermione's wand light. "I bet you like him, Granger. Why else are you so keen on having detention with him?"

"I'm not keen on–," Hermione tried to protest, but she was interrupted by the opening office door.

"Why are you still standing out here?" Snape asked in his calm, dark voice. "Crabbe, Goyle, get in at once. Potter, Miss Granger, you too. In with you." He glared at the passing students and then turned his attention to Malfoy. "Mr Malfoy, I do believe you have better things to do with you time. Refrain from keeping Potter and Miss Granger from appearing to their detention in the future."

"Yes, Sir," said Malfoy easily. He smirked at Harry who was loitering behind Snape and smirked right back. "I wouldn't want them to miss out a single minute, after all. Good evening."

"Good evening, Mr Malfoy," said Snape in a breathy voice. He then closed the door and turned around to Harry and Hermione who were hanging their cloaks away. "Miss Granger, wait in the room next door for me. Potter, come with me."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, and then both shrugged. Hermione left the office through the door Snape had shown her, and Harry followed Snape into a little lab room. He really wondered what Snape had in store for him, especially since the room seemed to be neat and nothing was set up for him. Crabbe and Goyle stayed behind, looking stupidly around as if they hadn't seen Snape's office before.

Snape closed the door with a lazy flick of his wand and then turned around to Harry. Harry quickly took everything of the room in before he met his teacher's eyes.

"Well? What do you want me to do?" He waited a second before he added, "Sir."

Snape sneered. "Potter, you know as well as me that you haven't earned this detention – for once. Anyway, I needed you here. You will supervise Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle tonight, as every Monday and Thursday for the following four weeks. I do believe that this task will not require a lot of concentration, so I'm also giving you a chance to up your grade in Potions."

"Wow, how nice of you," said Harry sarcastically.

Snape sneered again. "We'll see if you're finding me nice when you're done tonight. Over there is a book for you. It's about NEWT level potions, so I suggest you take a good look at it." He now smirked and slowly stroked the folds of his black robe that fell down his arms. "Or in it, rather, Potter."

"So you're giving me a head start for classes if I look after Crabbe and Goyle," resumed Harry, slightly incredulous that Snape would do such a half-legal thing.

"Well, I'm occupying your study time, Potter. I might as well compensate for it," replied Snape smugly. "And for once I can be sure that you're actually doing something for classes."

Harry scowled at him. "And you're keeping me out of your hair when you're getting on with Hermione."

"That's not your problem, Potter," said Snape darkly. "Unfortunately Dumbledore was, ah, quite insistent that Miss Granger and I lay aside our differences. I would have loved to hand her over to Filch, Merlin knows the girls' bathrooms need a good scrubbing."

For a second Harry felt rather smug about the fact that Snape needed him to supervise Crabbe and Goyle while he was talking to Hermione. But why he couldn't have asked anyone from his own house was beyond him. Maybe he feared that they would spend the time dallying around. The only thing he knew was that Snape would be rather caught dead than have that kind of conversation with a Gryffindor in front of students of his own house.

"What shall Crabbe and Goyle do tonight, then?" Harry asked. "I mean, there are no cauldrons to be cleaned."

"Think, Potter, just this once," said Snape impatiently, unfolding himself and standing straight. "For those two writing is more horrible than anything that requires working with their hands. Make them write, paint, whatever."

Harry grinned. "Yes, Sir."

Snape scowled at him. "Well, I'll come get you around midnight. Behave, Potter, I want no accidents. And if you should, by any chance, need parchment to take some notes, in the top drawer is some."

Harry decided to start the 'Disgustingly Nice to Snape' campaign immediately and gushed, "Oh, how considerate, Professor! Thank you so much!"

"Five points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Potter," said Snape coldly. Then he turned on his heel and left the lab quickly.

Harry was still chuckling when Crabbe and Goyle trampled into the room, looking stupidly around. He let them stumble around for a bit before he pushed himself away from the table he had been leaning on and regarded them intensely.

"Potter," said Goyle, letting his knuckles crack ominously. "What are you doing here?"

Harry smirked. "Good that you're asking. I am to supervise your detention."

Crabbe sneered. "Really." He and Goyle shared a look, and then both stared back at Harry. "And what if we don't want to obey you?"

Drawing his wand casually, Harry looked at the two Slytherins coolly. "I suggest you rethink that last statement, Crabbe. Otherwise it could get nasty."

"Make us," growled Goyle angrily. "I bet everything they say about you is just rubbish."

Harry's eyebrows rose considerably. "Oh? What do they say about me? Do tell, I'm all ears."

Goyle grunted. "You're just like that blond guy, Blockhead or so. Acts all high and mighty and is a stupid head in reality."

"Wanna bet on that?" Harry asked loftily.

Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other again, grunted and balled their meaty hands to fists. "Yeah, we do, Potty Pothead," said Crabbe.

They advanced on him, their intent clearly visible on their pudgy faces. Harry easily ducked away under the first blow, sidestepping the two without much of an effort. Years of stepping away from Dudley finally paid off as he kicked Goyle into the back of his knee and made him sag to the floor. Then he poked Crabbe into the neck with his wand, making the fat boy instantly whine like a kicked puppy.

"Now listen, you two idiots," murmured Harry darkly. "You will do as I say, or you'll regret it. Understood?" Crabbe and Goyle both nodded slowly, beady eyes glancing at Harry warily. "Good. I really have no time for you." He let Goyle get up and walked slowly to the table where Snape had placed the book he was to read. "Now sit down."

While Crabbe and Goyle squeezed into chairs Harry opened the top drawer of the desk and indeed found parchment, some bottles of ink and quills. He levitated some of each to Crabbe and Goyle and then ordered them to write 'I won't attack girls anymore' two hundred times.

"I'll check that," said Harry sternly. "Maybe you should number your sentences. Can you even count?"

Crabbe and Goyle threw him a subdued but still loathing glare as they uncapped their ink bottles. Harry opened Snape's book delicately and put his own quill next to it. It would be a long night, filled with boring potion receipts and two Slytherins for company.

Four hours later Harry was through the sixth potion in the book. Punctually Snape emerged from the other room and came to get him. He collected Crabbe's and Goyle's work and then sent them off to their dorm. When they were gone, he skimmed over their ink-smeared parchments and raised an eyebrow.

"Interesting choice of line, Potter," drawled Snape. "Simple and aiming for effect. How often did you let them write this?"

"Before they decided to throw their ink bottles at me it were two hundred," said Harry and shrugged.

The corners of Snape's mouth twitched, just as Hermione was approaching them slowly. "I see. That would explain their rather black appearance."

Harry crossed his arms in front of his chest. "They asked for it, Professor. They really did."

Now Snape really smirked, surprising both Harry and Hermione. "I have no doubt in that, Potter. I'm just surprised that they're still intact. What spell did you use?" He scanned the detention's result again and then pulled a displeased face. "Two hundred lines did you say, Potter?"

"I don't want to know," muttered Harry tiredly. "If I were cruel enough I would bet on forty-eight lines, not more."

"Then you're generous," replied Snape, throwing both rolls of parchment on a table. "You may go. Miss Granger, be here at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow."

"Yes, Sir," said Hermione quietly. She looked tired and a little worn out. Harry suspected she had been arguing with Snape the whole time. And to imagine that she had two whole months of detention like that made Harry feel very sorry for her.

"Potter, same time on Thursday." Snape whirled around and started to stride out of the lab. "And come up with a better line. Dictate, if you must, or hit their fingers with a stick. I don't care." He nodded shortly at Hermione before he left completely, leaving the door slightly ajar.

"So, how was your first detention with Snape?" Harry asked gently.

Hermione sighed and put some scrolls of parchment on a table. "Draining, somehow," she admitted. "We talked a lot, and about everything we wanted to argue about. We started with Dumbledore, and you wouldn't believe _how_ _much_ Snape can rant about Dumbledore."

"Actually, I do," mumbled Harry, looking at the scrolls Hermione had placed next to his hand.

"Well, and things … progressed from there. He said it was my fault that we were stuck in this, and then I countered that he should teach in a friendlier manner towards students, and then he went on about me being a know-it-all, and I called him irresponsible … The list goes on and on, really." Hermione took a deep breath. "Anyway, I think we had a good start. At least we were talking, not yelling, and he even attempted to be reasonable." She then cocked an eyebrow in amusement. "And how was your detention?"

"I swear, if Snape files this on my report, I'll kill him," growled Harry. "He made me supervise Crabbe and Goyle, and I had to threaten them into it beforehand!" He angrily ran a hand through his hair and messed it up even more, not that it wasn't standing on end already because he had kept doing that while reading Snape's book. "I can't believe he slipped out of it like that! One could almost think he wanted to be alone with you."

Hermione giggled. "Oh, Harry, how that sounds!" She sobered slightly, but her eyes were still glinting happily. "But I think you're right. I guess he wanted to be alone so nobody would disturb us. Dumbledore wants us to talk this through, and I swear, if Snape has his mind on something he carries it through!" Hermione giggled again. "But if you had Dumbledore on you case you would also rather do as he suggests than find out what's coming instead."

"What will you do, now that your evenings are cancelled?" Harry asked carefully. "I mean, you use to study then, and do your homework."

"I'll reschedule," said Hermione simply. "And what I'm not managing throughout the day I'll do during detentions with Snape, whether he likes it or not. If he has a problem with that he can go to Dumbledore." She smirked cheekily. "Besides, Snape has some books I would do almost anything for to get my hands on."

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's always the same with you. When will you learn some manners and not raid the libraries of strangers?"

Giggling, Hermione collected her scrolls and shrunk them quickly with a wave of her new wand. It gleamed golden in the lamplight and seemed so out of place in Hermione's small hand. Harry's eyes rested on it for a few seconds before he pulled himself visibly together.

"So tired?" Hermione asked softly.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," replied Harry quietly. "Let's go back so we can get a few hours of sleep." He even decided against visiting Dobby in the kitchen, although his stomach was grumbling in protest. Somewhere he surely had some last Chocolate Frogs leftlying around.

Later, when he lay in his bed, Harry was contemplating his fate. Snape had put him on a leash, making him watch over Crabbe and Goyle. Snorting softly, Harry turned around, facing Ron's bed. His best friend was snoring steadily. Snape truly knew how to kill two birds with one stone, or three birds, or four … Trust Snape to find a way to occupy Hermione, Harry and Crabbe and Goyle all at the same time and prevent them from doing mischief.

Then Harry yawned and decided that it was time for sleep. Before he thought about anything else he grabbed his wand and quietly pulled out the most important thoughts from his head, for example The Kiss, or where his godfather was hiding. When he was finished after a few minutes he evened out his breathing and concentrated on his defence mechanisms. Even though he had continued to delete Snape's memories from his mind, the most important parts were still there, helping him a great deal with his training.

Busy with his thoughts, he was quite unaware of the moment he left the world of the waking and slipped over into a restful sleep. His wand still sat in his right hand.

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**End of chapter 9**


	11. Chapter 10

_Disclaimer: Please see part 1. _

_Thanks:_ I thank you all for reading, reviewing and adding me to your favourites. Your reviews are often quite long and detailed and I'm very happy to see how many of you thought the story worthy of a bit of your time. Thanks a bunch, honestly. You make me very happy. And of course I also thank my wonderful beta Licelli who is the best I could have hoped for. Thanks to you the story is much more enjoyable! :-)

_Note_: To all of you who read the story regularly and wait for new chapters: I fear that in the near future I'll stop posting, at least for a little while. My chapters are very long and between boyfriend, work and ebbing Potter-mania I have to recover my enthusiasm. Before you panic please let it be said that I have notes for the whole story, it just has to be written. Bear with me please, I _will _finish this story eventually! :-)

**And now it's time to wish all of you a very merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! Have fun with family and friends, enjoy the good food and the troublesome relatives, the music and the sweets! Have fun reading and please enjoy this chapter too. Perhaps it's not to late to ask Santa for a bit of mania so I get a new boost and can finish HPFM next year. That would be great and is my goal for 2010! ;-) **

**Cheers to you, and be wary of the Eggnogg! *g*  
**

* * *

**Chapter 10**

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Harry and his friends were woken by loud howling and moaning. They needed a few seconds to comprehend that it was the wind that was roaring around Hogwarts. Actually an angry storm was rampaging over and around them, and there was nothing they could do about it. In all his years at Hogwarts Harry had never seen a blizzard such as this. It was beautiful and scary at once.

Ron and Neville stared outside in fascination and Dean made use of the opportunity and made a dash to the showers. Harry followed him, forcing himself to look away from the insanely twirling snow and the sheer whiteness that seemed to swallow Hogwart's ground.

During breakfast the storm was the main topic at all house tables. Students speculated whether some really nasty Ice Fairies had decided to haunt Hogwarts or if it was natural. When Dumbledore told them that outside-lessons would be cancelled until the weather got better, the ancient walls were ringing from the loud cheering that followed.

"We have to go to the old Herbology classroom," said Hermione once they were sated and merely sipping a last hot chocolate before classes. "Apparently Dumbledore closed the other room …"

"Yeah, right!" said Ron, perking up. "We now have Firenze in Divination!" He happily gulped his chocolate down, yowling when it came out too hot on his tongue.

Parvati and Lavender giggled. "Yes, imagine! A whole term with Firenze! Isn't he gorgeous, Lav?"

Lavender shoved Parvati slightly. "Oh, yes! Almost as gorgeous as Malfoy's dad!" She simpered. "I _adore_ him!"

Angelina leaned closer to Harry and Hermione and whispered, "I can't believe she was too clever to be sorted into Hufflepuff."

Ron and Dean, who had caught that, snorted in suppressed laughter, alongside with Harry and Hermione. Fortunately Lavender hadn't noticed, or else there would have been trouble before their first lesson, and the boys were clever enough not to provoke the girls so early when they were particularly cranky.

Ten minutes later they were on their way to History of Magic. Through the windows along their way they could see the storm raging. Trees were trashing wildly and the freshly fallen snow was whirled up again in mighty, white billows.

Fascinated, Harry noticed that the howling of the storm tuned out Binns' rambling completely; hence he happily ignored the ghostly teacher and studied another useful spell for the DA instead. Next to him, Ron was driven by the same eagerness.

For once there was nobody sleeping through History of Magic.

"Honestly," said Hermione when they were leaving the classroom. "Why didn't they put a silencing charm over the room? I couldn't hear anything. Of course I knew that he was going to teach us the fourteenth Goblin revolution in Norwich – I read everything about it after all - but now we all have to look it up in some books which is not really productive, don't you think so?"

"Of course, 'Mione," said Ron absently. Harry hid his grin behind his hand when Hermione huffed indignantly.

They wandered down to the first floor corridors. On their way Anthony Goldstein, Padma Patil and Terry Boot from Ravenclaw joined them, and at the next crossing Malfoy, Pansy, Nott, Millicent and Blaise met them, as well. It was a weird trek, and even more so when nobody wanted to make the first move for a hefty round of arguing.

Startled, Harry noticed that Malfoy looked very much alive today, as if enjoying the raging weather immensely. His eyes were glowing with a strange force, and his hair looked tousled somehow, even though it wasn't. Obviously Pansy shared Harry's sentiment, because she latched onto Malfoy's arm and gazed up to his unyielding features adoringly.

"Why is the git so smug?" grumbled Ron when he caught Harry glancing at Malfoy.

Hermione tsked and rolled her eyes. "Really Ron, he doesn't look like anything at all."

"He's smiling, the pompous bastard!" said Ron, aggravated.

Harry glanced at Malfoy again, just to be sure whether Ron was right or not. But Malfoy was far from smiling. He was actually glaring at Pansy right in that moment and trying to shake off her grubby hands.

"Ron, I think you're seeing things," argued Hermione, clearly annoyed that Ron couldn't let it rest for even a minute.

"Am not!" said Ron angrily. "See? The git is smiling!"

Dean and Seamus turned to look at Malfoy. While Neville just shook his head, Dean and Seamus agreed. Anthony and Padma followed the bantering with barely suppressed amusement. Hermione frowned, clearly confused about their divided opinion in that matter. In that moment Malfoy glared back, causing Dean and Seamus to turn away in embarrassment.

At a crossing Hermione said goodbye to Harry and Ron; she had to go to her Arithmancy lesson now. For once she seemed a bit reluctant to go. Fortunately for them all their walk ended finally not long after her departure.

The door to Firenze's new classroom was open. The girls were the first to enter, cooing at the lush spring scenario Firenze and Dumbledore had set up. Firenze stood in the middle of a clearing and waited patiently until the last student had come in and closed the door. Birds twittered softly in the trees that surrounded the clearing, and somewhere farther away a small river was rippling pleasantly.

Everybody seated themselves on the green, young grass. Bags were put down and parchment, ink and quills were taken out. Firenze trotted up to them, until he stood in front of his class. His face was calm and his pale hair flowed softly in the pleasant spring breeze.

"Hello," he said finally, breaking the tense silence. "I'm glad everybody returned safely to Hogwarts. As you already know, I'll guide you through your second term of Divination. My lessons will be very different from those Professor Trelawney taught you. However, I trust that we'll enjoy our time together."

Harry raised his hand. "Professor, what will you teach us this year?"

"Harry Potter," said Firenze, bowing his head and smiling slightly. "A good question which I hope to answer to your satisfaction." He motioned in the general direction from which the splashing sounds of the river came. "Since you all covered water omens last term I want to deepen your knowledge and further it a bit. Although Centaurs prefer to gaze into the stars to seek their answers, water omens are occasionally used to see what's coming in the near future."

"You mean a future that is closer than thirty years ahead?" Malfoy asked, sneering haughtily.

"Exactly, Mr Malfoy," replied Firenze, starting to pace again. His tail waved back and forth slightly, and the hair shimmered like molten moonstone. "Unlike human Seers we Centaurs also prefer the flowing water. Can anybody tell me why?"

Pavarti, Lavender and Millicent raised their hand, and Firenze picked Millicent to answer his question.

"Contrary to humans, Centaurs prefer to look into flowing waters, such as rivers or streams, because they know that the future is a constantly changing element. To determine things that will happen in a nearer future they watch the flow of the water rather than try to see the pictures our magic is supplying us humans with." Millicent took a deep breath. "However, Centaurs rarely resort to this way of divination because they are able to see into the faraway future and try to decipher it by watching the slow progress steadily."

"Thank you, Miss Bulstrode," said Firenze, nodding at her. "Centaurs indeed prefer to keep out of the humans' affairs. Still, sometimes certain circumstances require our attention to the mortal world, which is why we use the water omen as a way to find out what action is required of us. Ten points to Slytherin for excellent knowledge."

Millicent Bulstrode blushed but straightened her posture nonetheless in a bout of deserved pride. Lavender and Parvati glowered at her.

In the meanwhile Firenze continued his pacing, watching his students out of his pale eyes. "Each of you has a place in the nearer future, some more prominent than others. Mr Malfoy, for example, won't have to wait thirty years to fulfil his destiny." Firenze's lips quirked up in a gentle, teasing smile which only widened when Malfoy bristled. "His destiny is tightly bound to his family and roots."

Malfoy glared at Firenze. "And which roots, pray tell, should that be?"

Firenze just smiled his little, secret smile. "I'm not telling, Mr Malfoy. That's your business only." He resumed his pacing and looked at Neville. "Mr Longbottom here will change the world one day … Miss Patil will marry an important person … Miss Parkinson has already chosen her own destiny …"

So it went on and on. It was apparent that Firenze had looked into the future of each of them. Harry anticipated his own turn, as did Ron, but the lesson was over too soon. Firenze didn't give them any homework other than thinking about what he had said.

Ron pouted and left for Potions when Firenze did nothing to tell them their future, too. Harry, who hadn't seen Firenze in ages, straggled to get the chance to speak to him. The Centaur shooed the others out discreetly and then closed the door.

"Harry Potter, it's very nice to see you again," said Firenze softly. "I must admit I was a bit worried over the holidays. There were some disturbing things in the water."

Harry grinned. "I bet. I met Umbridge, Fudge and the whole Malfoy clan in Muggle London." His face turned serious. "How are you doing? I heard your family left the forest for good …"

"Well, that's the way it goes," replied Firenze quietly. "Things change. My elders didn't want to believe, didn't want to see the signs for what they were."

"Did you see that last year's disaster would happen?" Harry asked.

After a short while Firenze bowed his white head. "I did. Forgive me, Harry Potter. Certain things must be accomplished. Even if you had heeded my warnings you still would have gone to save the one you love most."

"Sirius, yes," said Harry quietly. "I almost lost him with my stupidity."

"But you also got the Minister to believe you, didn't you?" said Firenze gently. "If you hadn't followed your dreams they still wouldn't believe you. It's just fortunate that your godfather didn't die that night." He lowered himself to the ground which wasn't quite easy for him, being half horse and having four long legs to coordinate. But when he was done he was on eye-level with Harry. "The stars showed great grief for that night."

"I grieved about my friends alright," said Harry bitterly. He didn't know why, but Firenze was a very good person to talk to about such things. "I could have gotten them all killed."

Firenze sighed and pulled Harry in a tender embrace, a gesture which Harry wouldn't have anticipated in a million years. He could still hear Bane calling Firenze a common mule for letting humans ride on his back. Centaurs didn't touch humans voluntarily and yet here he was, in the arms of Firenze. And he was enjoying it. It made him feel warm and safe and cared for, although he couldn't call Firenze a close friend.

"You still have a long way to go, Harry Potter," said Firenze quietly in Harry's ear. "The Dark Lord is not resting these times. Be careful with giving your trust, but give it when the opportunity presents itself." Firenze leaned even closer; his white hair tickled Harry's neck, and the lips of the Centaur almost touched his sensitive earlobe. "But the most important thing of all, Harry Potter, is to grasp love when it's offered to you freely. Don't hesitate; it will change your life forever. Trust your friends and acquaintances; even though it doesn't look like it, you all have the same goal."

A delightful shiver ran up and down Harry's spine, and for a second he mourned the loss of Firenze's embrace. Then he heard the faint ringing sound of the bell, announcing that the break was over. "Thank you," he mumbled, still smelling Firenze's hair and skin.

"Don't thank me, Harry Potter." Firenze got up again, shaking his mane and tail. "You are doing us a great, wonderful favour. You need any help you can get, and I'm glad to be of service." He patted Harry on the head and then turned around. "I'll draw you a door. Where do you want to go?"

"To the library," said Harry in a daze. He watched as Firenze indeed drew a rectangle into thin air, and a door appeared.

"Just go through, and you'll reach your destination in no time," said Firenze. "Maybe we can talk again, Harry Potter."

"I hope so," replied Harry, flustered about the words Firenze had said. "Uhm, thanks for the door, and sorry for keeping you …" He quickly waved, grabbed his bag tighter and stepped through the already open door.

"Goodbye, Harry Potter," said Firenze softly. Then the door closed and Harry was left in darkness.

After what seemed to be a minute or so of walking, Harry smashed face first into a solid wall. He needed a few seconds to register that it actually was a door he'd run into. He pushed his glasses up his throbbing nose and groped for the handle of the door with his free hand. When the door didn't budge Harry yanked harder, cursing Hogwarts dearly. Finally he had enough, whipped out his wand and blasted the stubborn door open with the Abriara Spell.

Stepping out of the dark corridor and squinting in the dim, dull daylight, he noticed that he actually had just come out of one of Filch's broom closets. The door slammed behind him and several locks clicked into place. In a moment of crazed bewilderment Harry decided to forget about the whole thing altogether. He really didn't want to think about secret passageways that were there one second and gone the next. Not even the Marauder's Map showed them, so it had to be a special thing for Firenze, most likely made by Dumbledore himself.

Cursing and grunting, Harry made his way over to the opened doors of the library. Madam Pince scowled at him for walking too loudly. Harry ignored her and looked for Hermione instead.

As expected, she had found a comfortable table in a quiet niche. Several books were already piled in front of her, and her hair was tied back in a bushy ponytail. Harry had never seen her quite like this, at least not that he could remember.

"Hey," he said quietly.

Hermione looked up and frowned distractedly at him. "Oh, hello." She pushed a few books and scrolls away and Harry sat down. "What are you doing here? I thought you didn't have any homework?"

"I don't," said Harry, a bit irritated about her brusque manners. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Rescheduling, remember?" said Hermione and dove for a scroll. Other pieces of parchment flew everywhere. "I need to get my stuff finished before I have to go to detention."

"You will make yourself sick, 'Mione," retorted Harry. "It's only the second day, take a break."

With a triumphant cry Hermione pulled out a rune-covered parchment and spread it out in front of her. "Don't worry, I'll manage. And as I said, I can do the rest during detention." She looked up suddenly, gazing at Harry with a look he knew meant Inquisition. "What kept you, by the way? I saw Ron running down to the dungeons like the devil was on his heels."

"I talked a bit with Firenze," replied Harry as innocently as he could.

"And? Did he tell you something important?" Hermione grabbed her quill and quickly scribbled something down before she threw it down and started to rummage in her things again. "I heard from Lavender that he predicted everyone what they will do in the future."

Harry squirmed a bit. The information Firenze had given him was too personal. And for once he wanted to have a secret that he didn't have to share with his two best friends.

"No, nothing," he said finally. "I just asked him if he was alright."

Hermione sighed. "He has been hit hard, hasn't he? I feel so sorry for him … first all the trouble with Grawp, and then his family leaves him behind …"

"I wonder what they did with Grawp," said Harry. "The last thing I heard was that they brought him back into the mountains and tried to, ah, educate him a bit."

Hermione shuddered. "I do hope they're leaving him there. I never, ever, want to have this kind of trouble again!"

"It's really a pity that the Centaurs didn't snuff Umbridge, though," muttered Harry. "The way they were going at Grawp they could have done us this last favour."

"Do you remember the day in the hospital wing? Ron made these clucking noises and Umbridge sat bolt upright." Hermione giggled behind her hand and put her scroll down. She then made an astoundingly lifelike grimace of Umbridge's broad, toady face when Ron had shocked her out of her stupor.

Harry imitated the clip-clocking noise, and Hermione snorted in suppressed laughter. Madam Pince came to see what they were laughing about. For the second the librarian glared at them they managed to keep a straight face, but as soon as she turned her back on them they erupted in muffled laughter again.

Finally they calmed down. Hermione wiped a tear of mirth from her face, and Harry cleared his throat clumsily. Quick footsteps announced Madam Pince's return.

"THIS IS A LIBRARY, YOU UNGRATEFUL BRATS!" screeched Madam Pince. "IF YOU WANT TO AMUSE YOURSELVES, GET OUT!" She breathed heavily, and a dull blush stained her parched cheeks. With a trembling finger she pointed at the general direction of the door.

Hermione threw Harry an annoyed but still amused look and started to gather her things. After a second of shock (he wasn't thrown out of the library usually) Harry helped her. With all four arms full of books and parchment they scurried out of the vicinity of the irate Madam Pince and back into Gryffindor tower.

One look out of the almost completely snowed in window showed that the storm was still raging. And by sitting in a tower they could hear it very well, too. The howling and whistling rivalled Moaning Myrtle and Peeves any time.

Hermione pulled a face at the noise before she dropped her precious burden on the table in front of her favourite couch and took out her wand. With one swift movement she had cast a silencing charm around the common room.

"You're getting better," said Harry, impressed. "You didn't even move your lips."

"Believe me, silencing charms are the one thing I can't live without," replied Hermione and rolled her eyes. "Lavender and Parvati sometimes chat the whole night long, and I can't get a second of sleep without a spell. Or when I am studying. Honestly, one would think the others would be a bit more considerate."

Harry grinned. "We are Gryffindors, what did you expect? If you wanted silence you should have persuaded the Sorting Hat to put you into Ravenclaw."

"Ugh, no, not in a million years." Hermione huffed and plopped down onto the couch.

Harry sensed that she wanted to work now, so he left for his dorm, retrieved his book about Legilimency and occupied the other end of the couch. The fire in the fireplace was warming them pleasantly, and everything was covered in a soft, golden glow; especially now that the clouds grew darker and darker outside.

When the lunch bell rang, Hermione and Harry both jumped in surprise. Feet trampled up the stairs in a hurry, and not a moment later the portrait swung aside and admitted a swarm of hungry Gryffindors who ran to pack their bags for the next lesson.

Sighing, Hermione took her silencing charm down. Immediately the howling and meowing of the storm started again, and not just a few jumped at the sudden noise. Ron, Seamus and Neville came to their table, looking all but stressed out.

"Lunch, now," grunted Ron sourly. He looked as if he had taken a bath in frog slime.

"We are coming," sighed Hermione. She waved her wand over Ron and muttered a quick cleaning charm. "What did you do in Potions? You look awful!"

"Oh, the Slytherins just decided it would be funny to start a newt-eye-fight while Snape wasn't looking," explained Seamus. "Boy, I've never seen him so angry. And since we didn't do anything he actually docked points and gave a few of them detention."

"How many points? And who got detention?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Thirty points and detention for Nott and Parkinson," said Ron gleefully. "For a week!"

"Yeah, Snape really doesn't like it when they are wasting his ingredients." Seamus laughed. "I'm just glad that my honey isn't involved, being in Advanced Potions and all … I couldn't stand missing his kisses at night."

"Too much information," hissed Ron, turning beet red. "Can we go to lunch now?"

Laughing, the group made their way down to the Great Hall. Harry had a feeling that they would need their strength for Transfigurations thus making lunch all the more important. Colin and Dennis Creevey trailed after them; Colin even snapped a few new pictures of Harry until Hermione's scowl and threateningly raised wand made him behave.

After lunch McGonagall greeted them in her typical, brusque manner and demanded their holiday assignments. She summoned them quickly and then swiftly moved on to their new topic. Everybody except Hermione moaned about their misfortune. McGonagall was a strict taskmaster, but now that she was determined to cram everything they would need for their NEWTs into their heads, she was even more demanding.

"Miss Granger, I trust you replaced your wand?" McGonagall asked when she handed each of the assigned pairs a stupefied chinchilla.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, Professor."

"Very good. I expect good work as always, Miss Granger." With that said McGonagall moved on to Terry and Luna, the bunch of chinchillas squirming lazily in her arms.

When she was done giving chinchillas out, McGonagall stood in front of the blackboard and tapped her wand against it. A lengthy formula appeared immediately, written in her neat, pointy script.

"You know what to do, get started," barked McGonagall.

"Now she sounded just like Snape," whispered Ron, leaning over his table.

"I heard that, Weasley!" snapped McGonagall. "And now get to work or I'll show you that I can be even worse than him!"

Several students laughed when Ron blushed hotly and hid behind his textbook. Pavarti next to him giggled in amusement. Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes and picked up their respective wands. McGonagall wasn't as stern as she appeared to be, but dallying around in her class was not the wisest thing to do.

The chinchilla on their desk looked up with its black eyes, nose and whiskers trembling cutely.

"Oh my, and now try to transfigure it into an eel, Harry," said Hermione reproachfully. "I'm not certain I can do that right away."

Harry smirked. "Well, apparently it does have advantages to be cute, doesn't it?"

In front of them Neville jumped up – his chinchilla had bitten him and was now hanging off his left index finger. His wails immediately destroyed any studious atmosphere that had been in the room. McGonagall rushed to his table as quickly as her walking stick and awkward gait would allow her to and yanked Neville out of his seat with surprising strength.

"I'm escorting him to the hospital wing," said McGonagall sternly. "Behave, and I want to see some results when I'm back."

"Yes, Professor!" the whole class chorused.

McGonagall grumped and pulled Neville out of the door. As soon as they were alone wands and chinchillas were forgotten. Instead several students turned around to talk to their friends. Others were even bold enough to get up and walk over to other tables.

"Neville has a problem with rodents, hasn't he?" Hermione asked, suppressing her laughter.

Harry laughed and then heard Ron and Parvati argue about who was going to transfigure their chinchilla first. It seemed Parvati refused to be the first to try as well, only that Ron didn't want to do the honours and argued vehemently against it himself.

"Harry," said Hermione, faking a teary pout, "I simply can't do that to the poor thing. You go first, please."

Harry rolled his eyes and pushed his fringe out of his face. "Fine. But you'll be the one to undo the damage if I do it wrong." He raised his wand, swished it just like McGonagall had demonstrated earlier and muttered the incantation. Without problems the chinchilla changed into a flip-flopping eel.

"Poor thing," muttered Hermione under her breath, watching as the eel writhed on the table, snapping its mouth open and closed.

"It was too simple," said Harry, frowning. "I have a feeling that it should be more difficult."

Hermione shrugged. "You heard what Snape said. Our powers are changing, and you can't deny that you have learned a lot in the last few months. Besides, Snuffles and Moony told us that your parents were quite good at Transfiguration and Charms. Maybe you have a breakthrough now." With her wand she pushed the eel back to the middle of the table when it threatened to slide off.

Harry's frown only deepened when he transfigured the eel back to its original chinchilla form. "Still," he said. "Maybe I should go and see Dumbledore about this."

"If you like," replied Hermione and shrugged.

"Not really," conceded Harry and sighed deeply. He then lowered his voice to a whisper and leaned closer to her. "Ever since last year I can't talk to him. It's just … he kept so much from me, us, that it's hard to trust him."

"I understand that," said Hermione softly. "I really do. If you don't want to, then don't go. But if you think that's best I won't keep you."

Harry was spared a reply when the door to the classroom opened and McGonagall and Neville came back in. Neville's left finger looked as good as new; a few students who had left their tables wouldn't be in such good condition.

Professor McGonagall seemed to swell like a bullfrog in her fury. Harry, Hermione, Ron, Parvati and some others who had at least attempted to work, made themselves as small as possible and waited for the storm to go over.

In the end Gryffindor and Ravenclaw lost fifty points each, and the remaining one and a half lessons passed by in a terse silence which was only broken by the occasional whispering of an incantation or the soft sound of working magic.

When Transfiguration was finally over they had a new assignment to keep them occupied over the next week.

Harry, Hermione and Ron quickly left the classroom and hurried back to Gryffindor tower. Ron wanted to set up a new Quidditch training plan and therefore wanted to do his homework as quickly as possible.

Harry knew that he needed to cram for Potions, and he also had plans to complete for the first meeting of the DA on Saturday. He would show Smith that he was completely capable of leading their secret group. Next to their true DADA curriculum for this year they would practice one-one-one fighting and all the new spells Harry and his friends had found over the Christmas holidays.

Ten to eight Hermione walked out of the Great Hall, bidding Harry and Ron a good night. She carried a bag that was full to the brim with her homework assignments and extra work. The others looked after her in sympathy. Harry wanted to tell them all that they shouldn't be worried about Hermione's health; if anything she would annoy Snape even further without him being able to do anything against it.

Snape had stalked out of the Great Hall only a few minutes earlier. He had looked thoroughly annoyed, as if he'd only seen recently what a two months long detention with one student meant. Despite a faint feeling of compassion for Hermione Harry was very smug about Snape's misery. Obviously he had needed the remainder about how a teacher should treat their students.

When it was time to go to bed two hours later, Harry straggled a bit. He enjoyed the silence of the bathroom and wondered how he and Hermione were supposed to do their patrolling shifts if Hermione was in detention every evening. Wondering if McGonagall would be able to tell him what to do, he went to bed and pulled his book about Legilimency from under his pillow. Silently he ignited the tip of his wand with a wordless Lumos Charm and started to read.

-------

Ron and the others decided to not rise at all when it was time for breakfast. Grumbling and cursing, Harry wound himself out of his covers and sheets and stalked into the shower.

Last night had been particularly draining for him because Voldemort had decided to pay him a little surprise visit, just to see how advanced his defences were. Harry wasn't _that_ stupid, he had found out fairly quickly what Voldemort was up to and had joined him in his dream, playing an odd game of hide and seek with the ugly bastard.

The price he had to pay right now made him reconsider his stubbornness, though. Another night like that would be too much, and he knew it. Thankfully he still had enough of Snape's memories in his head to make quick progress with his Occlumency. In the meantime he could only hope and pray that Voldemort wouldn't be so clever to actually come and try every night to wear him down.

When he came down to the common room he only saw Hermione. Parvati and Lavender were obviously still sleeping, but contrary to Harry Hermione seemed to relish in the solitude. He joined her on the couch and prodded her booted leg until she closed her book and put it away.

"Coffee?" Hermione asked wryly.

Harry nodded mutely. He was tired and cranky and really couldn't be bothered with any kind of mischief today. Hermione rose from the couch and went out of the common room. Harry followed her closely, ignoring Colin's and Dennis', "Hi Harry!" masterfully. Ginny whacked Colin over the head before she followed Hermione and Harry out.

"Is Dean still sleeping?" Ginny asked, pouting a bit. "The git is so lucky!"

"Yeah, along with Seamus, Ron and Neville," said Harry glumly.

"And you look as if you haven't got a minute of good sleep," said Ginny and frowned. "Was it Neville's cactus again?"

"No, a certain Dark Lord," replied Harry darkly. "He thought it funny to annoy me the whole night."

"What? Did V-err-You-Know-Who do anything?" Hermione asked sharply.

"No, not really," said Harry, slumping a bit. "Anyway, how's the weather today? I didn't get a good look out of the window."

"The same as yesterday," said Hermione. "Stormy and snowy and cold."

Ginny groaned. "Man, and just when we get to train for the games for real!" She pushed the door to the Great Hall open. "But in this storm McGonagall wouldn't let us touch a broom or a Quaffle if her life depended on it."

"It seems we're stuck in the castle for some time," said Hermione unconcernedly. "You might get some work done for a change …"

Harry and Ginny both groaned.

"What do we have here?" Malfoy's cold voice drawled right behind Harry. "A tired Boy Wonder, a chipper know-it-all and the Weaselette. Shouldn't you lot be out and shovel snow out of the way, like your friend, the moronic half giant?"

"Good morning to you too, Ferret," said Harry coolly.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly Malfoy, when will you do some serious growing up? You certainly need it." With that she and Ginny swirled around and stalked away to the Gryffindor table.

Harry sneered. "The day you'll grow up I'm going to kiss you, Malfoy. Again." He batted his eyelashes in the way Pansy used to bat them and made a kissy-mouth.

Malfoy flushed scarlet and quickly pushed past Harry and to his house table. Blaise, who had just entered, snickered.

"Do you have to embarrass him like that every time he comes and annoys you?" he asked cheerfully.

"He's asking for it," replied Harry grumpily. "I'll see you in Potions, now I need my coffee."

Blaise snickered again and waved when Harry turned to go. Ginny handed Harry a large mug of the black liquid when he sat down next to her.

"What did you say to Malfoy now?" she asked with badly veiled curiosity. "He's as red a boiled lobster!"

"And here I thought that would never happen," said Hermione sarcastically. She stoically pushed cream and sugar in Harry's direction and then put a healthy amount of scrambled eggs on her own plate.

"Nothing," said Harry curtly. He sipped the hot and bitter coffee and refused to look Ginny in the eyes.

He would take his secret, that of The Kiss, to the grave. It was bad enough that he had threatened Malfoy with a kiss of all things. What was he thinking? But as cranky as he was he blamed it all on Voldemort and forced himself to forget the whole thing altogether. He had a feeling that the day would get only worse, anyway.

Since Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus as well as Parvati and Lavender were sleeping in, Harry, Ginny and Hermione spent their breakfast time with Lee Jordan, Alicia and Angelina, their favourite seventh years.

All the girls were talking about the huge amount of tests they had this week, and how unfair it was of the teachers to give them so much work. Hermione seemed very excited about the NEWTs, but Harry and Ginny both shared meaningful looks of dutiful distress and terror.

When the owls arrived Hermione forgot to ask Angelina about Flitwick's pop-quizzes. A dark owl with fierce looking orange eyes swooped down on Harry and let a medium-sized package fall into his hands. Harry looked at the sender and grinned.

"They sent me my new glasses," he whispered to Hermione.

"Cool," said Ginny from next to Hermione before she had a chance to say anything, "can we see them?"

"Not now, we have to go to Potions," said Harry regretfully. "But in the afternoon, alright?"

Ginny nodded and returned to her neglected cup of tea. Hermione peered curiously at the tightly wrapped brown package but refrained from asking a million questions. Harry had told her and the Weasleys that he had bought glasses, after all, and they all had threatened him that they had better be looking good or else there would be serious trouble and a lesson in good taste.

After breakfast they luckily escaped Angelina, Alicia and Katie and hurried to get out of the Great Hall. Ginny walked off with some friends to Charms while Harry and Hermione skulked down to the dungeons, coming just in time to witness another of Snape's infamous morning moods.

Blaise, who stood next to Luna for a change, seemed to be in a good mood, but Malfoy, who was sulking a few metres away, looked murderous. Terry Boot, Hannah Abbott and Ernie McMillan were talking to themselves, comparing notes and assignments.

The door of the classroom crashed open with force, and a very sour looking Snape beckoned the eight students into his classroom impatiently. With a snarl he slammed the door with the same force after Luna had entered. Harry and Blaise quickly scurried to their seats and took their things out of their bags.

"Man, he's really cranky this morning," whispered Blaise, wincing when Snape let the blackboard crash down in its hinges.

"Today you will attempt to brew the Draught of Despair," breathed Snape darkly in their direction. "As you hopefully know the Draught of Despair is an often used potion in battles. Potter, what does it do to a person?"

Harry groaned quietly. "It makes the person that comes into contact with the potion feel neglected, alone, weak or terrified."

"Mr Malfoy, how is the potion applied usually?" Snape snarled at Malfoy, whirling around dramatically and glaring at the blonde.

"It's usually applied like a spray, Sir," said Malfoy in a bored but slightly edgy voice. "That way the chance to get some of the potion into nose or mouth of the intended victim is much bigger. There's also no counter potion."

"Exactly," said Snape. "Five points to Slytherin."

Hermione trust her hand determinedly in the air. Snape, without turning around, straightened his posture.

"Yes, Miss Granger. What is it now?" he said silkily.

Unperturbed, Hermione answered, "Well, it might be the fact that there _is_ a counter potion. Admittedly the counter potion for the Draught of Despair is rather expensive and can't be made by everybody but that doesn't mean there isn't one. Also, using it like a spray is quite dangerous because the sprayer could be hit by it themselves."

"Did you never hear of spells that make your skin impenetrable?" Malfoy asked haughtily.

"Oh yes, and would you think to de-spell your opponent first when you're standing face to face?" Hermione shot right back. "Honestly, not every bad guy is stupid. Of course they'd go into the fight prepared."

Harry raised his eyebrow mockingly when Malfoy's meaningful stare strayed to him. Hannah and Ernie both looked at Harry, waiting what he would do about the blatant insult, but Harry kept his cool and merely glanced at them, indicating that Malfoy wasn't worth the trouble.

"Be it as it may, you will attempt to brew it today," said Snape with an air of finality. "The recipe is on the blackboard; gather your sorry excuses for brain cells and get to work!" Snape glared at Hermione, who had once again dared to contradict one of the textbook texts. Harry almost choked when Hermione actually smiled back kindly, which, in return, made Snape bristle like an overgrown crow.

"I'll get the ingredients. Set up our cauldron and scales, alright?" whispered Blaise, getting up already.

"Of course," replied Harry quietly.

Blaise returned a few minutes later and dumped an armful of ingredients onto their table. They set to work and the rest of their double period was spent in concentrated silence.

After Potions Malfoy made a beeline for the door, again avoiding to look even remotely in Harry's direction, and Harry could live with that. When no one was looking he pecked Blaise, in a bout of playfulness, on the cheek, and then he and Hermione walked off to Herbology. Hermione wore a mock-reproachful expression, but her amused grin was a teltale sign that she was more than okay with their friendship to Blaise.

On their way down to greenhouse two they only narrowly escaped Cho and her group of friends. Hermione clucked her tongue about Harry's behaviour but said nothing to keep him from acting undignified.

When they had fought their way through biting wind and racing snow they met up with Dean, Seamus, Ron, Neville, Parvati and Lavender. The six boys and girls looked utterly relaxed and content and without a care in the world, despite the gruesome weather. Harry and Hermione scowled at them enviously.

Fortunately Madam Sprout entered before they could lash out at their cheerful friends, and then she made them dig free the frozen roots of a sleeping, biting bush. With the soil frozen stone hard and magic banned from the plants it proved to be an exhausting task that took them the whole two lessons.

When the mixed Gryffindor and Hufflepuff class finally trudged up to the castle for lunch, Ron and the others looked just as tired as Harry and Hermione, not to mention their equally soiled hands and clothes.

Most of them were grumpy during lunch. Their hands still smelled of fertilizer and soil, and the oppressive weather did nothing to lighten their mood. Harry hadn't even tried to comb his storm-tousled hair; as it seemed the storm had just lessened enough to actually admit them in and out of greenhouse two, now it was howling with all of its might again. Harry and his friends felt cheated.

"Now two more hours of Divination," groaned Ron. "It's really unfair! Firenze told everyone what they will do in the future, only Harry and I didn't get to hear anything."

"Maybe he'll tell you today," said Parvati from across the table. She was still glowing at the prospect of marrying someone important.

"I wonder what we will do today," said Lavender, smiling brilliantly. "Although I would like to just look at him the whole time."

"It's getting old," muttered Hermione, who was sitting next to Harry. "One would think she'd find someone else to moon over …"

Harry snorted in agreement. Lavender obliviously nattered on about Firenze's beauty which quickly had the boys bored and a bit put out.

"He's not even human!" hissed Ron, stabbing a potato with his fork. "Why do girls always fall for the strange guys?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Just because she says she likes his looks doesn't mean she's falling for him, Ron," she said in a huff.

"I could easily fall for him," said Lavender in just that moment, making Hermione stiffen in annoyance and Ron cough smugly.

"Me too," said Parvati. "He's really cool, and so nice. Do you think he would marry a human at all?"

Hermione quickly finished eating and then grabbed her bag. "I need to get out of here," she said. "First they are drooling over Malfoy senior and now they are drooling over a Centaur! See you later." With amazing speed she wound her way out of the Great Hall.

Harry and Ron stared after her, astounded at her outburst. Lavender, Parvati and some girls from the lower years were still cooing over Firenze, and obviously someone had at least heard Malfoy's name because Lucius Malfoy was now part of their discussion, as well. Ron gobbled his food down and made to get up, too.

"Let's go, Harry," he said in a whiny voice. "They are all going crazy."

Harry silently agreed and hurried to eat his chicken. When he was done he and Ron quickly fled from their table; the shuffle behind them indicating that Dean, Neville and Seamus were following suit.

"Why do girls always have to fall for the too-handsome guys?" Ron complained angrily. "I mean, really, who of us can compare to Lucius bloody Malfoy? Even if the git is a Death Eater."

Harry frowned. This had never bothered Ron before, not really. Besides, the gangly redhead was slowly growing into his too-long limbs and nose. Also he seemed to forget that they were all only awkward and clumsy boys – of course they couldn't compare to Lucius Malfoy or Firenze. And who could blame the girls for being picky when the boys were picky themselves? No one wanted to date Eloise Midgeon or Pansy Parkinson, or, God forbid, Millicent Bulstrode.

The door to the classroom was already open, and the friendly spring scene was greeting them. Gratefully Harry, Ron, Neville, Seamus and Dean rushed in. Being early had the advantage of having the first choice of seats. Harry and Ron retreated to a moss bed under a big oak tree whereas Dean and Neville chose a comfortable looking place on the grass in the mid of the clearing. Seamus sat closer to Harry and Ron, hoping that Blaise would join him.

Ten minutes later Parvati and Lavender entered the room, together with Terry Boot, Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil. The Slytherins followed a few minutes later. Blaise immediately chose a seat near Seamus, winking at him flirtatiously. Malfoy quickly ran for it and sat down next to Blaise, effectively dodging Pansy's attempt to partner with him. It didn't keep the girl from choosing her seat next to him. A grumpy Millicent finally wandered over to her, leaving Nott with the choice to partner with Crabbe, Goyle or Terry Boot. Nott chose Terry after much growling which was no surprise to the others.

When Firenze appeared on the clearing Parvati and Lavender started giggling softly, and even Pansy and Hannah Abbott were making cow eyes at the Centaur. Malfoy, Nott and Blaise all rolled their eyes and shook their heads.

"I just don't get it," said Ron. "Are they going completely round the bend now?"

Harry just shrugged and blew against his fringe. Firenze smiled serenely at the group and started to tell them about trees and how they were valuable for divination. Listening to the smooth, calm voice for two hours wasn't the worst kind of lesson Harry could imagine, especially with that raging storm outside. He and Ron made lazy notes every now and then and enjoyed the wonderful spring weather otherwise.

After class Malfoy stayed behind. Harry loitered a bit, hoping to hear whatever Malfoy wanted to know. Ron, who was quite in a hurry to leave, hesitated and then stayed behind too.

"Really, Professor," said Malfoy, glaring at Pansy who hovered in the distant classroom door and was obviously waiting for him, "you must have made a mistake yesterday."

Firenze regarded Malfoy calmly. "Let's hope not, Mr Malfoy. You will be very happy in the future if everything comes as I saw it." He tossed his hair back artfully and smiled gently. "And who wouldn't want to be that?"

Harry managed to pack his bag more clumsily than usual, accidentally squishing his quill with his inkbottle.

"What are you waiting for?" Ron asked quietly.

"I just wanted to hear–," said Harry but stilled when Malfoy started to protest.

"What do you mean by happy? I am not happy! How can I be happy with _that_?" Malfoy pointed to the door where Pansy was standing.

"If you open your eyes in time you'll find out what's making you happy," said Firenze patiently. "You are far too impatient, Mr Malfoy. You need to wait for a bit longer, but you should start to consider your relations anew. Only good things can come out of this."

"Malfoy is having a good future?" whispered Ron, quite appalled that their enemy should be so lucky. "Oh man, I'm getting sick of this, let's go."

"I'm coming," replied Harry. He finished packing and left with a short goodbye. Firenze winked at him and then returned to his conversation with Malfoy.

Harry and Ron were barely through the door when Pansy leaped at them. "What are they talking about?" she demanded to know.

Ron just sneered down on her. "I bet you'd die to know, Parkinson."

"As if we would tell you," added Harry coldly. "And now get out of our way, Parkinson."

They pushed past the irate girl and strode down the corridor. Hermione was waiting for them at an old suit of armour, frowning at their tardiness.

"Sorry 'Mione," said Ron. "We were held up after Divination." He glanced at Harry and smirked. "Harry could have done with an Extendable Ear."

Hermione's frown disappeared at once. "What? Why?"

"Firenze was telling Malfoy to suck it up," said Ron smugly. "Honestly, there he goes and tells him that he'll have a smashing future and the git actually has the nerve to get angry."

"So you kept me waiting for this little piece of gossip," resumed Hermione and crossed her arms. "After all you've done to me I'm astounded that you even _dare_ to keep me waiting."

Ron blanched. "Look, 'Mione, those photos were not my fault! Don't take this out on me."

Hermione's pretty face looked positively menacing. "Oh, I think you learned your lesson alright, Ronald Weasley."

"Now, now, come on, we just wanted to hear what Malfoy would do," said Harry hastily, trying to break up the uncomfortable tension between Ron and Hermione. "Why don't we go back to our common room and do our homework?"

Hermione snorted and shouldered her bag more comfortably. "That's the first intelligent word I hear from you today. Let's go." She swirled around and stalked off, holding her head high.

Ron hung his head and followed her, clearly subdued because of Hermione's anger at him. Harry walked a step behind Ron, so his friend wouldn't see the smirk on his face.

On their way they met Cho in between a group of chattering girls, but Harry excused himself hastily when she approached him and prodded Hermione to walk faster.

"What does she want now?" Hermione asked irritably when they came up to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "United powers!"

The Fat Lady grunted at her unfriendliness and swung aside, admitting them into their common room.

"I don't know," snapped Harry back, "and I really don't want to find out!"

"Hey, Harry!" said Colin cheerfully. "There you are, we already wondered where you could have gone off to. Seamus and Dean wouldn't tell me where I could find you. Listen, Dennis and I thought about this project and–"

"Later, Colin," said Harry glumly. "I have homework to do."

"Oh, okay," said Colin a bit disappointed. "But you'll tell me when you've got a bit of time, alright?"

"Yeah," said Harry, sighing quietly. Ron behind him snickered into his hand; Harry elbowed him sharply in return and revelled in the sudden gasp of pain.

"Will you stop playing?" snapped Hermione. With a huff she made to climb up the stairs to the girls' dorm.

Harry and Ron bowed their heads and hastily ran up to their own dorm to retrieve the books they would need for their homework. They had to finish an essay for Professor Blackadder, and Binns wanted a summary about the fourteenth Goblin revolution. Both were incredible boring to Harry, and if Ron's long face was any indication he wasn't too thrilled about it, either.

Back down in the common room Colin, Dennis and Ginny eagerly made room for Harry, Ron and Hermione. Hermione accepted the offer gratefully and dumped her armful of scrolls of parchment, books, her inkbottle and quill onto the table. Ron and Harry put their things next to hers.

"Let's start on History," said Hermione determinedly. "That way you can wake up again when we get to do DADA."

"Yes, 'Mione," said Harry and saluted jokingly. Ron next to him grumbled morosely.

Colin and Dennis got up and went away. Ginny excused herself also and wandered off to Dean, who was doing his homework together with Seamus, Parvati and Lavender.

Twenty minutes later, when Harry had just gotten into writing about the bloodshed-part of the Goblin revolution, a bright flash violently disturbed his scribbling. Stars danced in front of his eyes, and his head was reeling. Fortunately Ron was there and steadied him.

"COLIN AND DENNIS CREEVEY!" screamed Hermione. "DIDN'T I TELL YOU NOT TO DO THAT AGAIN?!" She jumped up and drew her wand in one, fluent motion. "THIRTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!"

Several students groaned in annoyance and Colin and Dennis did the wisest thing they could do: they fled, pressing their cameras tightly against their chests.

"Everything alright, mate?" Ron asked concernedly.

"Those boys!" said Hermione angrily. "Harry, are you okay?"

Harry squinted his watering eyes, wondering if he was developing an allergy against flashlights. "Mmh," he mumbled, "they should have a ton of pictures by now."

"You got hit by a double flash," said Ron, chuckling about Harry's drowsiness. "I think they like you."

"Haha, Ron, very funny," grunted Harry, covering his eyes with his hands.

"Stop staring!" hissed Hermione at the students who were still looking at them. Some muttered obscenities under their breaths but complied all the same.

Harry needed a few more minutes to regain his bearings, and after he did, there were no more disturbances. He and Ron managed to finish Binns' essay around six in the evening, and Hermione suggested sweetly that they started immediately with DADA as she wouldn't be there to check their essays because of her detention with Snape. Groaning, Harry and Ron did as she told. At least Hermione didn't insist on perfect grades in Blackadder's class.

Forty-five minutes later Harry and Ron ended their sentences with a flourish and shoved the scrolls of parchment to Hermione.

"Done," said Ron smugly.

"I hope we don't have to write essays like that again," said Harry, blowing against his fringe. It was getting too long and constantly fell into his eyes. It was quite annoying.

Hermione, who caught his motion, cocked her head. "You bet we will get more of that. Anyway, didn't you get your new glasses this morning? When do we get to see them?"

"I don't know," said Harry reluctantly.

"Awww, come, you seriously need them," said Ron. "You look like a dork with your old glasses."

Harry grimaced. Snape had said exactly the same thing after their scuffle back at Grimmauld Place. "Oh well, come up then," he conceded, sighing.

Ron and Hermione followed him eagerly. Harry closed the door of the boys' dorm and went to get the little parcel on his bed. He had put it there after Herbology, when he had been repacking his bag for Divination.

"Moony and Snuffles put a few protection spells on it," said Harry in a way of explanation as he waved his wand several times over the parcel.

Ron scooted impatiently closer when Harry ripped the paper off. "I really hope these glasses look good," he said. "We wouldn't want anyone to tease you about them, right?" His impish grin made Hermione roll her eyes and Harry blush an interesting shade of pink.

"Here we go," said Harry, taking a deep breath. He took the new glasses on their legs, squeezed his eyes shut and slipped them on. "You can laugh now," he said, waiting for the inevitable disaster that would surely follow.

"I don't know," said Hermione. "Ron, what do you think?"

"To be honest, 'Mione, it's simply," said Ron, pausing dramatically, "modern."

Harry opened one eye and peered at his friends.

Hermione smirked. "Yeah, really unbecoming on someone as clueless as Harry," she said wickedly.

"I'm not clueless!" protested Harry. "Why am I clueless?" He opened the other eye as well and glared at Hermione.

"Because you have no fashion sense whatsoever," said Ron, sighing. "Just look at your clothes. You are wearing Piggy's old things again!"

"Because we were digging in soil," retorted Harry defensively. Madam Sprout had seen fit to drown the Greenhouse in soil to appease some cranky Meeping Muzzles, some kind of flesh eating Venus Trap. "But my sight is simply fantastic, wow …" He looked around the dorm, seeing everything with a clarity previously unknown to him.

"This simply won't do," said Hermione. "Your glasses are too good for these clothes. Go get changed, and pronto please."

"So they're not stupid?" Harry asked, relief lacing his voice.

Ron and Hermione swatted him both and shoved him to his trunk to get some appropriate clothes. Hermione left so Harry could change in peace. When he was done Ron looked at him smugly.

"Wow, you're looking decent for once, mate," he said with an infuriating smirk. "It's about time you got some taste."

"Says someone who wore maroon jumpers all his life," taunted Harry back.

"Touché," replied Ron and grimaced slightly. "Now let's go, I'm hungry." He went to the door of their dorm and threw Harry his cloak. "Oh, and you might watch out for star-struck girls."

"Very funny, Ron, ha-ha," replied Harry wryly.

Unfortunately Ron wasn't that wrong. A lot of students stopped in their tracks when Harry, Ron and Hermione passed them by. Some were outright pointing at him.

Blushing, Harry shrank in on himself, trying to hide behind the much smaller Hermione. His _Stop staring!_ shirt did nothing to make the ogling students stare any less.

"For Merlin's sake, Harry!" hissed Hermione in exasperation. "You have new glasses, not a new head! Behave like the man you are!" With astoundingly long strides she walked through the gaping people, tagging Ron and Harry along.

They reached the Great Hall and quickly entered. Angelina, Katie and Alicia, the Terrible Trio from the seventh years, gaped at Harry. A piece of cauliflower dropped from Alicia's fork back onto her plate.

"Hey Harry," said Lee Jordan who was just coming to the table, "nice glasses." He sat down next to Alicia and stole a sausage from her plate.

"Shows off your eyes," said Alicia with a thick voice.

"About time you got those," added Katie, winking. "You might watch out for the little creep Creevey though."

Parvati, Lavender, Padma and Hannah Abbott all skidded to a halt in front of Harry.

"Wow, it's true!" said Hannah. "He really has new glasses! I thought Eloise was being crazy!"

"Uuuh!" gushed Lavender excitedly.

"And just look how good he looks with them," said Parvati sweetly.

"Dark hair and then those green eyes," added Padma, leering blatantly. "I have to tell the others." She turned on her heel, and her hair swept around her like a veil.

"Me too," said Hannah and quickly left for the Hufflepuff table. Both girls were immediately surrounded by other students, and not long after people started to crane their necks to get a good look at Harry.

Parvati and Lavender sat down and stared blatantly at Harry. Hermione bristled angrily. Ron next to Harry smothered his malicious chuckles with his hand. Harry glared at them all and started to fill his plate with sausages and a dinner roll. Parvati rushed to aid him while Lavender poured pumpkin juice into his goblet.

Harry endured the oppressive staring for ten minutes, then he had enough. He got up and almost ran out of the Great Hall. On his way out the door, right behind the wall, Colin and Dennis caught him off-guard again and flashed him right in the face with their cameras, from the left and right side. Seeing stars and frenzied flashes in front of his eyes he ran smack into another person.

"Ow, sorry," he mumbled, catching the other person around the shoulders to prevent them from falling. Hands tightened around his own arms in response. A few more flashes indicated that Colin and Dennis had taken more pictures; fortunately Harry's eyes were still closed, not that he wasn't blinded already.

"Creevey, you little sod!" yelled a well-known, cold voice next to Harry's ear.

Harry felt as if a bucket of slime had been dumped over his head. Still seeing stars, he blushed furiously. Malfoy's right hand loosened its grip, presumably to dive for his wand. Harry was quicker and pointed his own wand at Malfoy's chest. He suspected that they looked rather odd, each having a hand on the other, with the other holding a wand.

"Lay off, Malfoy," said Harry, shaking his head to clear his view. "I'll deal with them."

"Oh really, Potter," scoffed Malfoy. "They make you half-blind and let you run into me. My father won't be pleased that our House Elves have to clean my clothes again." His strong left hand yanked Harry up in a straight position. "Potter-germs, honestly. Ah, well, it's too late now anyway."

"I can stand on my own, Malfoy," said Harry through gritted teeth. "Let go, now." The stars finally died down and he could see again. He blinked owlishly until his sight was completely clear. With a sudden movement he looked straight at Malfoy, scowling at the blond boy.

"They're running!" screeched Pansy loudly. "Crabbe, Goyle! Get the little pests!" Grunts and heavy, shuffling footsteps indicated that Crabbe and Goyle indeed attempted to get Colin and Dennis.

Harry shuddered at Pansy's shrill voice; unfortunately the offending girl decided to rather stay with them than chase the culprits herself.

Malfoy smirked, having observed Harry's reaction closely. "Oh, Potter, you have new glasses! And they actually look good on you. However did you do that?" he said in a taunting voice.

"I bought them," said Harry sarcastically. "Now, if you would let go of my shirt now …"

Instead of releasing Harry, Malfoy leaned even closer, towering over him with his superior two inches. Harry realised that Malfoy already was as tall as his father, or at least coming close. Malfoy's wand levelled at Harry's neck.

"I think not, Potter," breathed Malfoy darkly. "I need to tell you something first."

"What are you waiting for, Draco?" said Pansy; she was obviously annoyed about waiting so long and wasting the time on Harry of all things. "Let's go to dinner already. You can deal with Potter later."

"Why don't you go first?" said Malfoy coldly, looking up and over to her. "Honestly Parkinson, one would think you can't go anywhere alone, as in by yourself."

"I can too," said Pansy snappishly. "What's the matter with you today?"

"Just leave, Parkinson," said Malfoy haughtily, "I really don't need you here."

"Yeah, shoo," said Harry sarcastically, "I want to snog him breathless and don't want to be seen by you." He rolled his eyes in disgust and exasperation.

Malfoy chuckled quietly. "What a promising image, Potter," he said, amusement lacing his voice. "Go ahead, Parkinson, I won't be long."

Pansy sniffed and strode into the Great Hall. As soon as she was gone Harry sobered. He tried to wring himself out of Malfoy's grasp, but the blonde held on tightly.

"Not so fast," hissed Malfoy quietly. "I just wanted to congratulate you on your disguise, Potter. You know, when you were out in Muggle London. You had my father and I fooled for a second." He smirked. "And to think that he even found you interesting. _A Muggle_. Of course he was _mortified_."

"Look, Malfoy, if you want to tell me something, do it now. I have neither the time nor the desire to listen to your ramblings," said Harry, slowly getting angry.

Malfoy's smug grin only broadened. "I thought I was crazy for asking after your perfume, Potter, and then it was really you, I can't believe it." He laughed a crazed little laugh. "That you have the audacity to leave Hogwarts at all, Merlin, you could have gotten killed that night."

"So you think I'm stupid, so what?" Harry asked defensively. "It's none of your business."

"Stupid?" Malfoy asked, his grey eyes glittering ominously. "No, not really. It's not your fault that Fudge, that gormless idiot, dragged my father, mother and me into Muggle London of all things." The index finger of his right hand tapped against the Egyptian pendant around Harry's neck. "By the way, the necklace really suits you. It's … _fabulous_." He smirked again meaningfully.

"Sod it. What do you want, Malfoy?" Harry asked again, rapidly getting impatient with the rambling boy. A few passing students looked at them worriedly, but as they weren't fighting yet no one intervened. Still Harry lowered his voice to a whisper. "You can tell your precious father that I enjoyed to see him that night, if that's what you want, Malfoy."

Malfoy laughed again, a dark, velvety sound that made Harry's hair stand on end. "I already did that, Potter. The question is, what are you willing to offer so my mother or the Dark Lord won't hear about it?"

"Why should I care?" Harry asked suspiciously. He eyed Malfoy calculatingly, trying to see why Malfoy would tell him such a thing, and why it made a difference that his father knew but not his mother. "Moreover, what could I have to offer that you'd actually want?"

Malfoy smiled, and his eyes gleamed in the torchlight. Through the door the loud chattering of their schoolmates was heard, the sound somewhat unearthly to Harry right now. The close proximity to Malfoy did nothing to help him comprehend the situation.

"Potter," said Malfoy, dusting Harry's shoulders off with his wand hand. "You could do me a great, wonderful favour."

"Which would be?" said Harry a bit breathlessly. Malfoy was leaning closer, and it intimated him a bit.

Warm breath caressed Harry's bare neck, and he felt like swooning. Somehow the noises around him blended out and he involuntarily concentrated on the foreign feeling on his skin.

"Tell me the name of your perfume," Malfoy whispered softly, inaudible to passers-by. "Merlin knows you kept me on edge long enough."

"You are crazy, Malfoy," replied Harry quietly, feeling faint all of a sudden.

"You keep telling me that," retorted Malfoy softly, smirking mockingly. "And since I anticipated this answer I'm taking the next best thing." Suddenly Malfoy took a good step back and unwound the scarf from his neck. "You take this and wear it for a while."

"Why-I-no-you can't just," stuttered Harry, aghast when Malfoy slung the scarf around his neck. "Is that even wool?"

"It's silk, you twit," replied Malfoy, sneering. "You better keep an eye on it, Potter, or there'll be hell to pay."

Harry made to take the scarf off, but Malfoy's withering glare stopped him.

"You really don't want me to tell my mother what I know, Potter," said Malfoy crossly.

"Who will tell me that you won't do that anyway?" said Harry just as tartly. "The last time I talked to you, you were a prick."

"I swear not to tell my mother or the Dark Lord that you were in the same restaurant as us if you wear my scarf for a week, Potter," said Malfoy in exaggerated exasperation, crossing his arms when a spark of magic danced across his wrists. "Satisfied?"

"Why shouldn't your mother know about this?" Harry asked persistently, making Malfoy's right eye twitch slightly.

"Because she's the one with good contacts to Umbridge," said Malfoy and sneered. "My father wouldn't touch the old bint with a pincer if his life depended on it. I wouldn't either, come to think of it."

"And he would be interested in keeping me alive _why_?" Harry prompted, smirking when Malfoy started raking his hands through his hair in frustration.

"What do I know, Potter? Take it or leave it," snapped Malfoy. His angry voice caused several students to turn their heads towards them.

"Oh well, say his name then," demanded Harry. "That of the Dark Lord, You-Know-Who, you get the picture."

"What?" Malfoy looked sharply at Harry, losing his perfectly composed stance completely.

"Swear by Voldemort's name if you dare," said Harry quietly, glaring at Malfoy. Malfoy gulped and raked another hand through his already tousled blond hair. Harry smiled sardonically. "You are not so fond of him yourself, are you?" he asked quietly. "Welcome to my world, Malfoy."

Malfoy stopped ruining his hair. "Fine, Potter. I swear not to tell my mother or V-voldemort that you were in the same restaurant as us if you wear my scarf for a week." He looked away, cursing sharply.

An odd, tingling sensation ran through Harry, and he felt vaguely alarmed. "Do you feel that, too?" he asked, slightly panicked when the feeling spread through his arms and fingers.

"It's an oath, you dolt," spat Malfoy. "What did you learn at your home? Incredible how stupid you are sometimes!"

Harry glared at him and tightened the hold on his wand. "You'd better go after Parkinson before she's sending a search party, lover boy," he said coldly.

Harry then wrapped the offending Slytherin-green scarf around his neck and stalked off before Malfoy could say anything more annoying. The wand in his hand gave off red sparks as he went.

The common room was empty, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He really didn't feel up to being questioned about the scarf around his neck. He wondered how it could have come so far, Malfoy blackmailing him into wearing the stupid thing at all. Harry shook his head; the blonde clearly had lost his last marble over the holidays.

Sighing, he thought that Hermione would probably understand, but Ron and the others might declare him insane or something like that. Especially when he had indeed agreed to wear the scarf of his enemy. Not only was the colour a personal insult but also the fine material it was made of. No Gryffindor with the exception of Parvati Patil wore silk clothes; it just made no sense with their talent to get into trouble. Malfoy's scarf felt nice, though. It was soft and long and really kept him warm.

Harry wandered up into his dorm and disposed of his cloak. He kept the scarf on, however. He had given a promise and intended to keep it, even though it was a promise to Malfoy. With grumbling stomach he searched for some leftover cookies and his favourite eagle feather quill. His essay for DADA needed a few last additions and corrections, and after that he could finish his plans for Saturday. Plus, Dennis and Colin both would get a lesson in manners.

Fortunately DADA didn't take too much of his time, and he finished his essay without Hermione and was still satisfied with it. He needed a few points to keep his Average grade and he was capable of doing that all by himself.

After DADA he got his notes for the DA study plan and regarded the plans for the room they would need and the timetable for the new stuff. Smith would have so much to do with looking after himself that the wouldn't have the time to antagonise Harry at all. Not that Corner was any better when he got it in his head that Harry deserved trouble for troubling Cho. Seeing that this occurred every three meetings, Harry included him in his list of least-liked DA members. At least Harry had learned how to distinguish constructive criticism from gormless rambling.

Ron came back when Harry was just finishing his notes. The clock in the common room struck ten, and with a sigh Harry put his quill away and capped his inkbottle. Ron looked at his papers with faint interest and sat next to him on the sofa. Soft ripples of magic washed over both him and Harry.

"Silencing charm?" Ron asked in quiet amusement.

"Yeah, it kept getting louder," replied Harry. "What did you do outside for so long?"

"McGonagall told us something which is important for you, Harry," said Ron. He raked a hand through his flaming red hair, and for a second Harry didn't see the awkward, tall boy but a young, serious man.

"Why didn't she come to me herself?" Harry wondered and frowned.

"It was her injuries," said Ron quietly. "She didn't say so of course, but I offered to tell you what she wanted."

"Poor McGonagall," said Harry. "One more reason to get Umbridge, and get her good. Go on, McGonagall was saying?"

"She just told me about your patrolling shifts for the next two months." Ron smirked. "Actually, the lack thereof. Snape said that Hermione can have two evenings per week for herself if she's having her detention on Saturday as compensation."

"And that means?" Harry prompted.

"You have to do your patrolling alone, 'Mione already chose the free evenings on Tuesday and Friday, you know, when you have your staff meeting and Occlumency lessons."

Harry's shoulders slumped. "Oh no, now I'm doomed to patrol the halls alone, that's so unfair." He raked both hands through his hair and then rubbed over his face. "I mean, I can understand that, but why did she choose to be with Snape on weekends of all things?"

Ron shrugged awkwardly. "What do I know? You can always ask 'Mione tomorrow, it's not as if we have to be awake for 'Grounding' and 'Centring'." He motioned with his fingers and indicated quotation marks.

Harry snorted in suppressed laughter. "If anything, Blackadder will be at Seamus' throat for disrupting her meditative aura."

Both boys snickered gleefully. Seamus, who just entered the common room, headed straight for them. Ginny, who had been sitting for the whole time with Dean, her boyfriend of eight months standing, took his hand and went over to Harry and Ron, too. Soon Neville joined them, effectively filling the last space in front of the couch.

"I heard my name, was there something important?" said Seamus and waggled his eyebrows. Harry noticed that his hair was mussed and his lips looked red as if he'd been kissing thoroughly not long ago. Seeing that it was Seamus (who was still very happily going out with Blaise) it was more than likely.

"Only DADA tomorrow," said Ron, holding his sides gingerly. "Harry and me, we wondered how you would tell Blackadder to piss off this time."

Everybody laughed, even Neville, who was usually too shy to talk badly about teachers. They talked about their plan to annoy Snape a bit longer, and everybody expressed their anticipation and joy about the next DA meeting. Now that Saturday slowly came nearer a curious anxiety took possession of the members of the DA, and Harry heard with slightly incredulous pride that quite a few of his friends had been sneaking off the last days to practise spells and curses in some old classrooms.

"Oi, Harry, since when are you wearing that scarf?" said Ginny, touching the fine silk carefully. "It looks awfully expensive." She leaned closer. "Is it a present from Snuffles?"

Harry grunted in reply and Ginny took it as a positive answer to her question. Seamus and Dean looked curiously at the green scarf and Ron, who was now staring at the thing, was downright scowling.

"Slytherin green, Harry," he said reproachfully. "Honestly, what was Snuffles thinking?"

"That it goes with his eyes?" said Seamus mockingly and rolled his eyes. "Leave him alone, Ron. It's just a scarf."

Parvati and Lavender sauntered up to them. Lavender squeezed in between Dean and Neville and Parvati simply claimed Harry's lap as her seat. Harry squirmed uncomfortably under her moderate weight. Parvati giggled.

"You're comfy, Harry," she cooed. "Oh, and what a nice scarf!" She fingered it, and the material slipped like water through her slender hands. Harry resisted the urge to slap them away. "It's from the newest collection of Fredérique Fantastique." She purred and leaned closer to Harry, much too close for his comfort. "They're _awfully_ expensive. How did you get this, Harry?"

"Sod of, Parvati," scowled Ron. "Harry and I were just about to play Exploding Snap."

Gratefully, Harry shoved Parvati from his lap and got up. "Uh, yeah. You can have my seat, of course."

Both Ron and Harry bolted from their friends and took a table behind a large group of squabbling first years. Ron summoned his deck of Exploding Snap and shuffled the cards.

"That girl infuriates me!" said Ron angrily. "Does she ever talk about other things than clothes and money?"

"Obviously not," retorted Harry, rubbing his face with his hands. "If anybody else is asking me about my stupid new glasses or the stupid scarf I'll hex them. Seriously. Why can't they ever leave me alone!"

Ron dealt out the cards and avoided looking at Harry for a few moments. "That's why I envy you sometimes, Harry," he said then. "Because you don't have to do anything. A new scarf or new glasses are enough and the world revolves around you once more."

"I don't find that wonderful," said Harry crossly. "I don't want Parvati sitting in my lap and I don't want every idiot telling me how good that scarf looks on me. I don't want Colin and Dennis to take pictures of me every chance they get." Angrily, he tossed a card on the card house, making it sway precariously. "Your turn."

Ron put his own card on the card house and then shrugged. "Just live with it, mate. We others have to, too." He smiled awkwardly. "Well, and I do try to understand you, you know."

Sighing, Harry put his cards down. "Sorry I snapped at you. I'm just mad about the whole shit that's going on …"

They finished the game in silence. Harry was unwilling to spill all of his angst to Ron; his best friend had had to endure that last year already, and he didn't want to be unjust to him or Hermione again. He and Ron said goodnight to their loitering friends and walked up to their dorm. Harry wanted to sleep and forget about his whole discussion with Malfoy. The blond boy had blackmailed him, but his reasons didn't make any sense. Why wouldn't Lucius Malfoy tell Voldemort?

Harry believed what Blaise had told him at the beginning of the school year. Malfoy obviously didn't hold a lot of sympathy for Umbridge, and he feared Voldemort more than was prudent for a young Death Eater wannabe. Plus, he hadn't answered when Harry had asked him if he wanted to kill him before Voldemort could. So he had some reason to believe that Malfoy wasn't as evil as they had believed in previous years. But still, he behaved rather oddly at times.

Sighing, Harry put on his pyjamas and slipped under the covers of his bed. Ron next to him was also settling in, grunting quietly while tossing and turning around to find the most comfortable position.

Harry took his wand and started to empty his head. The memory of The Kiss was particularly vivid today, and he blushed when he relieved the seconds of the touch of Lucius Malfoy's lips against his own. Quickly he disposed the squirming memory into the Pensieve and grasped for the one of Draco Malfoy kissing him. It was much tamer than the memory of the older Malfoy kissing him, but he still blushed when he thought about his enemy kissing him so tenderly.

_First kiss, huh?_, Harry thought, just before this memory floated into the Pensieve to the others.

With a grin he settled back and closed his eyes. Despite or because of the oddity that it was Draco Malfoy from whom he had stolen his first kiss he felt extraordinarily smug.

---------

On Thursday morning Harry met Hermione in the common room, dragging a protesting Ron with him. Fortunately Seamus and Dean assisted him, pulling and shoving Ron out of the common room, because Ron resisted like a stubborn mule.

"Nooo, I don't want to get up, mommy," he mumbled in his half-sleeping state, "we have to go to the evil woman, and I don't want to …"

"Come on," said Hermione strictly, "we are already late for breakfast."

When Ron still protested and stomped his feet to hinder Seamus and Dean to drag him with them, Harry simply cast a levitation charm and let Ron float in front of him.

"And here I thought you were my friend, Harry," babbled Ron. His head rolled onto his chest and just seconds later soft snores came from his direction.

"I can't believe he's still sleeping!" huffed Hermione. "It was I who was awake half of the night."

"How was it, anyway?" Harry asked.

"Oh, Snape and I negotiated about the detention schedule," said Hermione. "And I daresay I made a good bargain. I have two evenings off and have to go to him only on Saturday."

"And you think that's a good thing?" Harry asked, incredulous and hurt. "You are leaving the patrols completely to me!" Seconds later he cursed his accusing tone of voice because Hermione turned her doe eyes on full force and looked at him pleadingly.

"Oh, Harry, please understand me! I need the time to study, seriously, and this was the best I could get. Even I need a good night's rest every now and then."

"Fine," grumbled Harry, swerving Ron out of a wall's way just in time. "Have it your way, but just so you know it, I'm angry at you."

"That sounds like a date to me," giggled Seamus. "Hermione and Snape in detention on a Saturday night …" He whistled lowly and then smirked. "Lovely."

"Sod it, Finnigan," said Hermione, flustered and angry. "You don't have to deal with six hours sleep per night if you're lucky! Shut your trap or I'll make you."

Seamus cowered under her ugly glare and retreated behind Dean and Neville. Parvati and Lavender, who walked at the end of their little trek, regarded Hermione calmly. Hermione quickly turned around, hiding her scarlet flush under her hair.

In the Great Hall Harry immediately spotted Colin and Dennis. Both tried to hide behind some second years. Harry told his friends to save him a seat and strode over the them. When he was standing in front of them he couldn't quite suppress a smirk. Colin sported an impressive shiner whereas Dennis' right arm lay in a sling.

"You two, a word. Now." Harry turned around and walked out of the Great Hall. A few metres down the hallway he turned, crossed his arms and waited until the two culprits came stumbling up to him.

"We're sorry, Harry, really!" cried Colin desperately. "Please don't do something horrible to us, or throw us out of the DA …"

Harry sneered. "As I see it, Malfoy gave you a piece of his mind already." He waved that aside, and the two boys relaxed slightly. "But I will still punish you. I think McGonagall should know of this. Maybe two weeks without your cameras will do you some good."

"No!" cried Dennis. "Not our cameras, please!"

"Harry, you can't do that," whined Colin. "We'll do everything, but don't let McGonagall take our cameras."

Both looked with desperate puppy dog eyes at Harry, and Harry knew that the opportunity to do a bit of his own blackmailing had come.

"Alright," he said softly, "you can indeed do something for me." He smirked when Colin and Dennis immediately perked up and scooted closer.

"What? Anything for you," said Colin eagerly.

"I want you to take some nice shots of Hermione," said Harry quietly. "Try to get her when she's unaware. And try to get her when she's looking cute."

Colin blanched, his eyes widening dramatically. "Are you, uhm, interested in her, Harry?"

Dennis mutely fingered his camera nervously but looked intently at Harry, too.

"Me? No. But I want some nice pictures of her. And don't breathe a word to anybody else, or our deal is for naught. Understood?" Harry looked at them sternly, daring them to contradict him. If anything, Colin and Dennis knew about him that he was never backing down from a promise he made.

"Understood," wheezed Colin, still pale.

"Oh, and do try to do so without getting caught," said Harry warningly. "Hermione won't be as lenient as I am." He then smiled benignly. "Well, now that this is settled we all can go back and have a good breakfast. Off with you."

Colin and Dennis immediately turned on their heels and ran back into the Great Hall. Harry followed them at a more leisurely pace, revelling at how easy things sometimes were.

Breakfast was a thoroughly enjoyable affair for Harry. First of all the DA members from Gryffindor looked on as Hermione wrote a long, nice letter to Rita Skeeter, asking her to write for them again.

Hermione promised Rita that the story she would get would be good enough that it was worth waiting a little while until the time for publication was right.

Harry happily lent her Hedwig who had soared in to nick a piece of bacon from Harry's plate. Her hoot as she soared off sounded decidedly gleeful.

With that done the sixth years happily walked to DADA. When Harry, Ron and the other Gryffindors were about to enter the classroom they stopped in morbid fascination. Professor Blackadder had put the tables aside to make room, and now several heaps of candles and other things lay strewn across the room like weird mole hills.

"What the heck is this?" Seamus asked loudly.

"Looks as if somebody forgot to tidy their room," said Dean, snickering.

Hermione impatiently blew a strand of hair from her face. "Honestly, even you should recognise things for a ritual when they are jumping at you like this."

"Ritual? Weren't we Grounding just three days ago?" Lavender asked, frowning slightly.

Professor Blackadder decided to have her grand entrance. Clad in a brown robe and a black woollen coat she swept down the aisle. With a shudder Harry noted that she looked almost like Lockhart when she did that.

"Good morning, students!" she said cheerfully. "Isn't it wonderful that you all will start the day with a good Grounding and Centring?"

Harry and Ron groaned quietly, along with Neville, Seamus and Dean. Parvati just looked sceptical and Lavender even bored. Professor Blackadder stepped down the last steps of the aisle and spread her arms out theatrically.

"I prepared the necessary things for you already," said Professor Blackadder breezily. "There's a heap for each of you." She folded her arms and looked at them lazily, smiling her unworldly smile to which Seamus only referred to as 'loony'.

The class shuffled into the room and each student occupied a spot on the floor.

"It's freezing cold," complained Lavender, "and she really expects us to sit here for two hours?"

Parvati nodded in agreement. "I'll ruin my cloak and robes, and they were really expensive."

Seamus and Dean scoffed. Harry chose a bundle of candles, matches, bowls and satchels near the window and looked out. It was still snowing heavily but not as furiously as the day before. Maybe the storm was finally letting up.

"Now dears," said Blackadder, "take the candles and place them around you in a circle, one candle in each direction. Watch out for the colours, dears."

Groaning, Ron, Seamus and Dean did as they were told. Harry was more curious than annoyed, now that they got to know this foreign magic a bit better. All that talking about it the previous months had done nothing to appeal it to him, but maybe some firsthand-experience could remedy that.

While lighting the candles, Neville managed to kick the freshly burning candles away when he was turning around to light the next. After a few minutes Hermione had enough and lighted the candles for him. Fortunately Professor Blackadder was busy telling Seamus off for trying to bake sand cakes with the sand from one satchel.

Once everybody had lit their candles successfully and placed them in a proper circle, Professor Blackadder stalked to the front of the classroom.

"Now," she said with a slight strain to her voice, "take the satchel with the earth and empty it into the bowl that is placed in front of the candle facing and representing north." The students emptied the small portion of earth into the bowl. "And you'll do that with each satchel and the flask of water. Put them in their respective bowl."

More shuffling was heard as the kneeling students put the substances in the bowls. Blackadder started to prowl around. Dean had to exchange his bowl for east and west, and Parvati had sloshed half of her water on her robes. Professor Blackadder docked five points for her attempt to dry her robes with a quick spell.

"No magic," said Blackadder calmly. "Now, take your wands loosely into your right hand and concentrate on the four directions and the elements their represent …" She passed by Harry and halted in front of Ron. "North represents earth. Concentrate on the earth in your bowls and what it means to you …"

Harry sighed. This would be a long lesson. The silence of the classroom was fairly disconcerting, considering the ruckus that normally reigned here.

To his left he heard Ron's muttering. Given that his best friend hadn't even been properly awake until now it quite possible that he was slipping off to lala-land again.

"Mmh, earth … soil … no, mom, I don't want to weed the garden yet again …," mumbled Ron. Drool dropped off his chin and on his robe. His flaming hair stuck up in every direction, almost worse than Harry's hair, and that was a feat.

Blackadder prodded Ron with her pointer stick. "Wake up!" she demanded. "You are to concentrate, not sleep. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Ron jolted awake and blinked stupidly at Professor Blackadder. His chin was drool-smeared, and Harry thought he heard Hermione moan in despair from somewhere across the room.

"Man, she's worse than Snape," muttered Dean resentfully. "Old bat."

"Now concentrate on the east and the air," snapped Blackadder, a bit less calm than before. "You must feel the peace between you and the element." Her pointer stick crashed against the floor, and then she was marching to the other side of the room, to Lavender and Parvati. "I trust you are able to finish the rest on your own," she snapped. "And when you're Grounded you are to start Centring immediately."

Harry just shrugged when Dean and Seamus looked over to him. He evened out his breathing and concentrated on calming himself down. All that training in Occlumency was not for naught, and he was actually glad that he had learned it.

After slipping into his meditative trance, he started to visualize north, east, south and west. Unconsciously, he connected the candles with his wand, drawing an imaginary circular line around them as he thought about rich earth and deep woods, the wind that whipped around him when he was flying, the fire that warmed him and the water that sated his thirst and cleaned his skin and clothes.

Weird as it was, thinking about it like that made him ache strangely. A sweet burn settled in his chest and it felt as if the air he was breathing got warmer, almost golden. Without even thinking he placed his palms on the cold stone floor. The energies in his body swirled around, uncoordinated and untamed. Gratefully, he let the cold floor suck the hot energy out of him and felt how Hogwarts gave him energy back. It was softer, cleaner, and less wild.

Suddenly everything changed. Behind his closed eyelids his vision ran wild. The soothing pictures of golden breath and hazy lines of energy were replaced by a green meadow, and he was overwhelmed by the smell of thousands of plants and flowers. Out of a blue summer sky the sun shone brightly down on him, and when he looked down on himself he saw darkly tanned arms and his topless chest. Only jeans shorts greeted his eyes. Even his feet were bare.

Bewildered, Harry looked around some more. He knew he had seen this before, and just when the proverbial knut dropped, several things happened at once. First he saw how the wind ran through the high grass and made it sway and looking like an endless sea of green water. Then he heard a few different voices and wondered if he should go after them, just to see to whom they belonged. And at last there was that mighty chill that suddenly crept through his whole being. It wasn't uncomfortable, quite the contrary, actually. Moaning softly in delight, Harry turned around and rubbed over his goose flesh-covered arms.

"_Get him_," a dark voice suddenly whispered urgently. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. "_Get Harry._"

Strangely, Harry felt no fear as he started to run from invisible hunters. Actually a burning happiness spread through him, and he felt like laughing. His legs carried him over the meadow and through the high, waving grass. He felt so incredibly free, and behind him he heard voices calling his name. He turned around and flashed whoever was following him a cheeky smile. Their bodies and faces, however, were obscured in the shimmering heat of this summer day.

After a few minutes of wild chase Harry reached a huge oak tree. Its enormous branches overshadowed a large part of the meadow, and under it the grass was much more lush and green than on the open field.

"_We'll get you, Harry_," the voices called, slight laughter swinging through the air. "_You are ours, beloved_."

The voices were near, very near. Harry had barely stepped into the shadow of the oak when he felt hot breath on his skin, on his back and between his shoulder blades, and then arms snaked around his waist and he toppled down into the soft, green grass, the stranger on top of him. The last thing he saw before he stared up into the rich crown of the tree was the wide horizon that was shimmering in the heat of the summer.

Breathlessly he squirmed around until he was lying fully on his back, facing his pursuer who pinned him down. Only moments later a second person appeared.

Both his capturers wore nothing but a loin cloth made of animal's fur and a belt of raw leather. Oak twigs, still with leafs, and little tokens made of acorn adorned them. Their chests were painted with black and white colours, and as it seemed they had printed each others' hands on the skin. And both were wearing masks made of fur and leather and colourful feathers. They covered his captors' eyes

but not their mouths or chins.

Harry smiled shyly and reached up to caress the cheek of the man lying on top of him. The chase was over, and it felt so right.

Warm hands started to caress him back. His second pursuer shoved the first a bit out of the way until he lay snug against Harry, as well.

Amazed at how tender these wild-looking men were, Harry stared up into their eyes. They were steely and clear. Long, sun-bleached hair tickled his neck and chest and the strong, long legs of his wild capturers scorched his own legs with their heat.

"Mine," said Harry softly. For a second, everything made sense. He caressed the arms and backs of the two men, thinking about the God Luna had told the DA about. Did he actually look like this? And where was the Goddess? Well-developed muscles quivered under his touch, and he snickered softly.

His second capturer bent down first and captured his lips in a light, teasing kiss. Harry's head started to reel. Then the other bent down as well and claimed Harry's lips in a much less innocent kiss, too. A warm tongue started to lave on his neck in addition to the hot kiss, and suddenly Harry couldn't bear it any longer. His body arched up, and a hot, searing sensation shot through him. Moaning, he grabbed each masked man on a shoulder, squeezing and holding on tightly.

And then everything went dark around him.

"Harry! Harry, wake up!"

"Yeah, mate, get up!"

Blearily, Harry opened his eyes, squinting in the pale daylight. Everybody was looming over him, as it seemed, especially Professor Blackadder, who looked gravely at him.

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Hermione asked concernedly.

Ron put a hand on Harry's forehead. "He's feeling a bit hot," he said, frowning.

"And he's flushed," added Parvati.

Harry blushed even more and quickly sat up. "What happened?" he asked hastily, feeling already embarrassed beyond belief.

"You got really into it," said Seamus, smirking.

"Well, at least you can meditate properly," said Dean. "Anyway, you got into that deep sort of trance, and then you looked as if you were somewhere else entirely."

"I guess I nodded off, then," said Harry weakly. "Sorry about that."

Hermione looked at him strangely. "You just sort of fainted after a while. Did you dream about–"

"No," said Harry immediately. Thankfully his body started to cool off finally. The strange, jittery feeling was still there, just not as strongly as before. "I-I just fell asleep."

Everybody turned to Professor Blackadder. She played with a strand of her long hair and looked rather pensive.

"I understand that your duties as Prefect are catching up on you," she said after a few seconds, "but do try to get more sleep, Mr Potter. Falling asleep is not the goal of this lesson." With that she rose and stalked back to the front of the classroom. "Now, the lesson is over, anyway. Can anybody tell me what they experienced?"

Surprisingly, Neville raised his hand. Professor Blackadder pointed at him and smiled encouragingly.

"Well, it started while I was thinking about the elements," said Neville in a quiet but determined voice. "Especially when I thought about earth and water. I felt calm and overwhelmed at the same time, as if the elements were greeting back."

"Very good, Mr Longbottom," said Professor Blackadder brightly. "What else did you feel?"

"After I drew the circle I thought about the earth as a whole, and how much it is giving us," confessed Neville. His cheeks flushed a bit, but he talked further nonetheless. "I asked the earth to take my energy and clean it so I would use better energy when I do magic." He looked at his hands. "I tried to imagine that I would give my energy to the earth and the plants, and that they are giving me energy back. It felt … nice."

Harry's breath hitched slightly. He had felt the same thing, basically, before he had slipped off into that weird dream.

"I felt it, too," admitted Hermione after a while. "Although I felt more connected to the air and earth."

"It was fire and air with me," said Ron quietly, as if confessing something really embarrassing. "But I feel fresher now."

Lavender shook her head. "I didn't feel anything," she said, a tad bit insulted.

"Me either," said Seamus unconcernedly.

"Well, I thought there was a connection to air," said Parvati. "But I didn't feel anything after that."

Dean shrugged. "I don't know. The time was nice to think about some things, though."

"And Mr Potter? Which element suited you?" Professor Blackadder asked pleasantly.

Harry squirmed. "I liked to think about all of them," he said cautiously. "And I felt the same thing as Neville, really. I exchanged energy and felt fresher after that."

Seamus snickered. "And it refreshed you so much that you nodded off, eh, mate?"

Blackadder's curious stare slowly became unnerving, so Harry smiled weakly and nodded. "Yeah, I guess it did."

Hermione cleared her throat. "So, does that mean that was all for today, Professor?" she said nonchalantly.

"Oh, yes. I'll give you homework, though. Ground and Centre again, and write me a detailed report about your experiences and visions if you should get some," said Professor Blackadder cheerfully.

"Visions?" Harry asked dumbly.

"Visions," repeated Professor Blackadder happily. "Sometimes, when a connection is strong, the Lord and Lady reveal themselves and send visions. It usually is something quite insightful, or a titbit of a loved memory. It's their way to say hello."

Harry blushed. What if he hadn't fallen asleep but had a real vision? Strange as it sounded, it was a possibility. The contents of his dream, however, made him pray that it really just had been an odd dream, exciting but rather sinful, and not at all desirable for his real life. Harry knew that it was best to just forget about the whole thing; and still he knew that this wouldn't happen anytime soon.

Morosely, he trudged out of the classroom. Ron and Hermione followed him, but Harry didn't listen to Hermione's insistent nagging about his dream and why he was so unfocused lately. Thankfully Ron jumped in to defend him, and Harry once more felt really grateful to have a friend like him.

"I wonder what Flitwick will have us do in Charms today," said Ron after a short while of silence. "It's almost a pity that we have covered almost everything in the DA already."

Hermione huffed. "Honestly Ron, just because you are a trifle ahead of everybody else doesn't mean you can slack off."

"And you are no fun, 'Mione," retorted Ron easily. Dean and Seamus laughed about the light banter, as it had been going on and on like this since the day Harry and Ron had befriended Hermione.

The group rounded a corner and just barely prevented themselves from running into a large group of third year Hufflepuffs who apparently were just leaving Professor Flitwick's classroom. In a co-ordinated move Harry and the others stepped aside and let the younger students pass before they turned the last corner and headed for their classroom.

Flitwick was standing on his desk when the Gryffindors entered. With a squeak he waved them all in, flailing his short, stubby arms enthusiastically.

"Hello, hello, welcome, please come in!" said Flitwick, smiling brightly.

Ron, who was sitting down to Harry's right side, leaned close and whispered, "Did he hit himself with a cheering charm?"

To Harry's left Hermione snorted in amusement.

It took a minute of shuffling around until everybody was seated and had unpacked parchment, ink, quills and wands. Flitwick remained standing on his desk, looking at the students happily.

"Good morning, dear students!" he squawked in his high pitched, brittle voice. "Today I will start teaching you some really useful charms!" He used his wand as a pointer stick and pointed at the blackboard behind him. Out of thin air words appeared on it.

"Neck-cramping spell?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"And a twitching curse?" said Parvati disbelievingly. "That's child play!"

"Now, now," said Flitwick smugly. "You of all people should know that the simplest of things almost always have the greatest effect. Can somebody tell me why and how?"

Of course Hermione raised her hand immediately, but now Harry and some others were up to the game, too. Pleased at the students' attention, Flitwick picked Harry.

"Assuming that you are teaching us these spells as a means of defence, I'd say that the simplest spells and jinxes are not expected in battle, thus giving us a greater chance of actually hitting the opponent. And as to how: somebody with a thoroughly cramped neck has other things on his mind than hexing us into next week." He shared a quick, meaningful look with his friends.

"Good, Mr Potter," said Flitwick. "The best thing about these spells is that they're actually harmless, but can easily tip the scales in your favour. Never forget that. Somebody who's trained in dark spells won't expect you to attack with a finger clamp charm of all things, since it is indeed considered child play." He clapped his little hands in glee and, with surprising agility and elegance for a man of his age and size, hopped off the table.

"I know half of them already," mumbled Ron, crossing his arms. "And I have the stupid feeling that it could actually work."

"And they're really easy, too," added Hermione eagerly. "I can't wait to practise them."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yeah, just like everything else the teachers are trying to teach us," he said sarcastically.

Harry chuckled and quickly ducked when Hermione lounged at Ron. That Harry sat between them seemed to be no hindrance for Hermione at all. Flitwick in front of the class happily ignored their childish squabbling as he explained the first charm.

--------

After lunch and two very boring hours of History of Magic Harry, Ron and Hermione were on their way back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry was half asleep, although he had tried to read his notes about a clever gluing charm. The storm had let up further, and now the snow was falling down in rhythmic, almost hypnotic patterns, making everybody sleepy who looked at them for too long.

"Oh, great," said Ron angrily. "First it storms like hell and we can't play Quidditch, and now it's snowing like crazy and we still can't play Quidditch."

Harry smirked. "I'm sure it will clear up in the next days."

"Boys," said Hermione, huffing. "Life's not all about Quidditch."

"Excuse me," said Ron petulantly. "We just had to give up Quidditch for the last two years, so it's only fair to play now. Besides, you're a girl and don't understand."

"Yeah, Umbridge's ban was most unfortunate," agreed Harry, scowling. "If the stupid bint should try something like that again I'll personally kick her into that closet, you know, the one Fred and George kicked Montague in."

"Good idea," said Hermione maliciously. "But well, brute force isn't everything we can resort to. The letter to Rita Skeeter is on its way, and we'll know soon if she'll help us digging up dirt about Umbridge or not."

They climbed the stairs, avoiding the trick steps easily and without a thought. Several portraits greeted them on their way, and they greeted politely back. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy Porpington pulled his head aside and wished them a good day; by now the gross sight wasn't shocking anyone anymore.

The Fat Lady smiled down at them when Harry, Ron and Hermione reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

"Password?" she asked, batting her eyelashes at Harry and Ron.

"United Powers," said Ron, hastily looking away from the leering woman. "Ugh."

The portrait swung aside and admitted them in. In the common room several students were already setting up tables to their liking for their study time. Ginny was herding together Colin, Dennis and two girls Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't really know.

"Leave your camera upstairs, Dennis, or I'll hit you," said Ginny, just as Harry and the others let the portrait snap shut behind them.

Dennis groaned and slumped back on his chair. Colin patted him consolingly on the shoulder. He then looked at Harry, a cautious smile flitting over his face.

Harry waved back, and then he and Ron climbed the stairs to their dorm to get their books for their own homework.

"Nice shiner Colin has there," said Ron, chuckling heartily. "Where did he get that?"

"Oh, I had a run-in with Malfoy, and the little git took pictures," replied Harry as nonchalantly as he could. "I guess Malfoy had a problem with that."

Ron snorted in laughter. "Funny, given that Malfoy is so vain. One would think he loves pictures of himself."

Harry perked up. Ron was right, besides, it was a good opportunity to mortify Malfoy further. He just had to give him the photos and see what his reaction was. From there on he could decide whether to annoy him further or if it was enough.

Gleefully, Harry slammed his trunk shut. In his arms he held books about transfigurations and potions. They didn't have so much homework today, but he needed to cram for Advanced Potions tomorrow, as always.

Back down in the common room Hermione had already annexed their favourite table in front of the fireplace. Ron and Harry plonked down onto the couch, and under Hermione's strict tutelage they quickly immersed in their homework and didn't stop until it was almost time for dinner. Harry had started on his lesson plans for the next weeks of DA meetings. Hermione and Ron would give their input later, right now it was important to draw the most important outlines.

When dinner came they left the common room, bickering good-naturedly about the detention Harry and Hermione both had to go to later that night.

"Honestly, what did you do to put Snape off like that?" Ron asked, swallowing his laughter.

Harry elbowed him and scowled playfully. "Nothing, you git, and you know it. I have to baby-sit the other morons who are not so lucky as to spend their detention in Snape's wonderful company."

"Ah, so you got stuck with Crabbe and Goyle," said Ron in mock-sympathy.

"And with Parkinson and Nott," supplied Hermione helpfully. "What a nice assembly. I wonder, Harry, what will you have them do tonight?"

"Hitting them with a stick," replied Harry darkly. "Snape said I could do that …"

"I would let that cow Parkinson scrub cauldrons," said Hermione gleefully. "She always worries about breaking a nail."

"And Nott? I know nothing about him," said Harry, tugging unconsciously at Malfoy's scarf. "I could make him write, but that's boring."

"Well, if he's bothering you, you can always make him wipe the worktables or something," said Ron in satisfaction. "And Crabbe and Goyle … how did they take the writing?"

"Badly," replied Harry, smirking. "They tried to throw their inkbottles at me, but well, that spell we just learned recently was helping me a great deal to return them to the senders."

Hermione snickered. "Yeah, Crabbe and Goyle were … well, black. And Snape didn't even take points."

"And now I know why he let me look after those two," said Harry, scowling. "They're worse than Dudley, and that's hardly possible, believe me."

"At least he's offering you some kind of compensation," said Hermione.

"Really? Snape does that? What kind of compensation?" Ron asked eagerly, apparently hoping for a good story.

"I can read his books and study for Potions," said Harry dryly. "Well, at least I get to cram some more if nothing else. It could be worse – he could give me the opportunity to develop my biceps by reorganising his shelves."

Hermione and Ron snorted in suppressed laughter, and so they entered the Great Hall merrily and without much fear for the upcoming detention. The House Elves spoiled them with foreign food; a lot of students were tucking in the deliciously smelling French baguettes and cheese, grapes and even melons, although neither of them had an idea how the House Elves might have gotten them.

"Just look at them," said Ron hatefully over his buttered baguette. "Nott looks like a pissy rat, and Parkinson looks like a pansy pug."

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw Pansy pestering Malfoy, as usual. She simpered more than usual, though, and it seemed to annoy Malfoy greatly. Crabbe and Goyle both shovelled the food into their bottomless stomachs, not caring for anything but their plates and the food in and out of their reach.

Amused, Harry watched them a bit longer. He had stopped looking at them in annoyance quite a while ago. If he were to be impartial he would have to say that the social life at the Slytherin table was almost as tacky as one of Aunt Petunia's Soap Operas, and just as interesting. Also, their acting towards each other told him a lot about their social structure.

Malfoy, for example, had managed to become the Slytherin Prince without even trying. Harry didn't know if his father had helped in that, or what Malfoy was doing behind closed doors to secure his position, but all along their sixth year he hadn't done anything drastic to make himself the leader.

Pansy, on the other hand, had fallen more and more out of the good graces of Malfoy and the others. Harry guessed that most Slytherins were just as annoyed with her as the rest of the sixth years. It didn't help her that she was trying to bully Malfoy into a relationship, either.

Then there was Millicent Bulstrode, a rather quiet character. She sure had her violent streak, Harry thought, thinking back to his second year when she had tried to beat up Hermione during Lockhart's duelling course, but right now she kept a low profile and seemed to be watching the happenings closely.

Crabbe and Goyle were still the same stupid brutes they had been in their first year. Harry refused to consider them as dangerous enemies just because they managed to carry some plans of their parents out. When it came to real fighting both Slytherins wouldn't be a match for either member of the DA. In Slytherin both Crabbe and Goyle were treated indifferently, although Harry knew from Blaise that no Slytherin wanted to associate with them, not even for dirty work they might be able to do.

Harry smiled. Out of all the Slytherins he liked Blaise the best. He was a loyal and compassionate friend, honest to the bone to Harry and everybody else he considered friends, and he was also clever and very caring.

But despite his friendship to Blaise there were some things Harry still considered dangerous, such as Blaise's friendship to Malfoy. Hermione's list effectively forbade blabbing out important secrets, and he truly was far from forbidding Blaise his friends, he just didn't know what to make of it. Malfoy was awfully quiet, really. Or Harry had just gotten a lot calmer lately. Either way, their hate-hate relationship wasn't as exhausting as before.

Chuckling, Harry thought that the main reason probably was his ribbing. His playful advances on the blonde really had an interesting effect. It almost was a shame that he hadn't found out about this sooner.

"What are you thinking about?" Dean asked when he noticed Harry's faraway gaze.

"Oh, nothing," said Harry and grinned. "Absolutely nothing. Could you pass me the butter, please?"

Dean quirked a small smile when he looked at the bickering Slytherins and then passed Harry the butter. "Nothing indeed, Harry."

Harry and Hermione ate up while they listened to the teasing of their housemates. From first to seventh year they seemed to find it incredibly funny that both Prefects had a detention at the same time. No pair of Prefects had managed that before, especially not having to serve it with Snape.

"Well, we better get going," said Hermione, looking at her wristwatch. "Don't wait up for us, it could get late."

"And we wouldn't want you to be out after curfew, now would we?" said Harry teasingly.

"Of course not," said Seamus and smirked cockily.

"I'm with you, Harry, 'Mione," mumbled Ron around a large bite of baguette. "Good luck with the greasy git."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Yes, thank you, Ron." She looked at the Slytherin table. "Parkinson is getting up, too. Let's go, Harry."

Harry waved at his friends and followed Hermione out of the Great Hall. Only seconds later they heard footsteps behind them. At a crossing they turned and spotted Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott following them. Both wore decidedly sour expressions. Not far behind them Blaise and Malfoy prodded Crabbe and Goyle along. Even Millicent Bulstrode had joined the trek to see the four Slytherins to their detention.

"Crabbe and Goyle really need the right motivation," said Hermione scornfully when she and Harry saw the tip of Blaise's wand poke Crabbe in the back.

"Why am I not surprised?" said Harry just as scornful. "I almost pity Malfoy for having to escort those idiots everywhere."

They entered the corridor that led to Professor Snape's office. Eight wand tips ignited at the same time and lightened the dungeon considerably. Nobody spoke, and only the shuffling of their feet was heard in the cold, damp air. Not for the first time Harry noticed grime and mould on the walls, and the occasional bug that had managed to survive in this harsh environment.

Snape was already waiting for them when they reached their destination. With a curt nod of his head he beckoned everybody in, even those who didn't have detention.

"As I can see you decided to be punctual for once," said Snape slowly, glaring at everybody with his withering stare. "And you even brought a whole entourage." His lips curled into an unpleasant sneer. "Well, Mr Malfoy, Mr Zabini, Miss Bulstrode, if you are so eager to do something useful you can stay here, of course." It was not a suggestion, and they all knew it.

Malfoy opened his mouth to speak but visibly restrained himself and just set his jaw in a stubborn expression. Blaise next to him first looked defeated, but then he winked at Harry and smiled softly.

Snape, who had seen that, sneered harder. "And isn't it wonderful that Mr Potter will watch over you while you're here?"

A gasp of outrage came from Pansy, and she glared heatedly at Harry, snarling angrily. "Him? But Professor! Why him? Why aren't _you_ supervising us?"

"Calm yourself, Miss Parkinson," said Snape icily, instantly freezing Pansy on the spot. "You will do as you are told. Mr Malfoy and Mr Zabini will assist Mr Potter. Miss Bulstrode, you are welcome to have a look at my library. And I suggest that you're not disturbing Potter or the others."

Millicent nodded. "Thank you, Sir."

"Well then, you know what to do, Potter," said Snape and pointed at the door that led to his private lab. "Miss Granger, this way please …"

Snape steered Hermione away, and Harry couldn't have been more disturbed when he saw Hermione's impish smile. Sure, she had said that she would go and annoy Snape, but did she have to be so eager and cheerful about it?

The door closed after Millicent Bulstrode, who was following Snape to get some books from him. Nott stared stupidly at the door, looking as if he wanted to follow Millicent rather than stay behind with the other boys and Pansy.

"Well, let's get going," said Malfoy crossly. He prodded Goyle viciously with his wand and pushed him into the lab, forcing him to sit down. Crabbe followed without hesitation.

Harry swaggered to the front of the room, turning around to look at his small class.

Pansy and Nott had seated themselves behind Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy and Blaise were still standing in the room, looking distastefully at the assembled culprits. Harry picked up a stick that was lying innocently on his desk. He could hardly believe it, but Snape had obviously really seen fit to provide him with such a tool. He took it in his right hand and looked at it. With some satisfaction he saw Nott flinch slightly.

"Now, dear Slytherins," he said to them, "Professor Snape has given me the task to keep you busy for a few hours." He lifted the stick up and showed it to his charges. "And he also permitted me to do anything necessary to keep you in line, including this stick and magic." He leaned a bit forward and glared at them menacingly. "And you better know that I'll make use of both if you annoy me." It was not an empty threat, and now Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy flinched, too.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Nice speech, Potter. And what are we to do? Are we to write lines as well?"

"If you want to," said Harry, smirking at Malfoy. "But you can also take a book and study. As long as you aren't annoying me I won't make you do anything. The same goes for you, Zabini."

Pansy and Nott bristled angrily, but Harry silenced them with a deft move with his stick. He then levitated parchment, ink and quills to them, had Blaise collect their wands and ordered each one to write a different line.

Crabbe and Goyle got the lines 'I won't beat up other children anymore' and 'I won't endanger others again'. Pansy laughed scornfully about Harry's choice of line, but Harry just gave her a look that promised trouble.

"Since you are thinking that this is a walk in the park rather than a detention I'll give you something better to do. You'll write five hundred times 'I won't harass Malfoy anymore.' Understood? Number your lines, and should you try to do anything I'll have you report to Snape directly." Harry smiled darkly. "And I don't think that he would be very pleased about an interruption."

Malfoy snorted and sneered at Pansy. Blaise even snickered quietly.

Before Pansy could start to argue, Harry turned to Crabbe and Goyle and dictated them both their lines; of course they hadn't bothered to listen the first time. He even had to slap Crabbe with his stick – the boy simply wouldn't move. Nott didn't get the same line as them, though, and Harry was inclined to let him off relatively easily because Nott didn't seem to be the type of boy who usually bothered others.

Just as Harry was about to go back to his desk at the front of the room, Pansy grabbed his arm and yanked him back.

"Potter," she hissed, "Why in the devil's name are you wearing Draco's scarf?"

Harry's heart stopped beating for a moment, and a sudden chill ran through his body. "You must be mistaken," he replied coldly when he had gathered a modicum of his wits. ,,It might look like his but believe me, not everything revolves around Malfoy."

"You can't fool me, Potter," said Pansy icily. "How did you get his scarf?"

"Parkinson, stop making a scene," said Malfoy condescendingly. "Why ever would I give Potter my scarf? The one you mean is a present from my father, after all."

Harry twitched slightly and suddenly felt rather suffocated.

Smirking at Harry, Malfoy continued, "But as we all know now after last year, Potter's godfather is around here. I bet he gave him the scarf."

"But it's from _Fredérique Fantastique_," said Pansy shrilly, "And they're handmade! There are no other scarves like that, I would recognise yours everywhere!"

"Stop it right now, Parkinson," snarled Malfoy darkly. His grey eyes flashed angrily, and Harry knew that the blonde was quickly losing his temper, something he had never witnessed. At least not to that extent.

"What is going on here?" screeched Pansy hysterically. "Potter is stealing your scarf and you're defending him!"

"Yeah, and maybe he and I are really snogging when no one is looking," said Harry sarcastically. "Use your head for once, Parkinson, honestly. You know that that will never happen."

Malfoy threw Harry a scathing look but remained silent. Harry smirked and raised his eyebrow, causing Pansy to accuse him of blatant flirting with her boyfriend. Crabbe and Goyle laughed their grunting laugh while Blaise snickered heartily.

"You are betraying me, Draco!" shrieked Pansy viciously. "I'll tell your father what you're doing behind my back!"

"If I were unfortunate enough to be together with you, I'd even hit on Potter so you'd get the hint!" yelled Malfoy right back. "And really, I'd never cheat on you behind your back, Parkinson. I would want you to see that I don't want you in any way." He sneered at her.

Harry waggled his eyebrows mockingly and leered at Malfoy in a highly suggestive manner, making the boy flinch and blush.

"_Potter! Keep your filthy paws to yourself! Draco's mine_!" shouted Pansy loudly, making the ears of the boys ring painfully. "_You gave him the idea of being interested in you, Merlin knows how you did that–_"

Her shrieking and shouting reached new peaks of shrillness and in the end Harry just seated her at the other end of the room and put a silencing barrier around her. Nott and Blaise looked gratefully at Harry, and given Pansy's volume of voice it was heartfelt gratitude.

Millicent Bulstrode returned from Snape's other room a few minutes later. Blaise and Malfoy each immediately stole a book from her armful of tomes and retreated to the seat in the corner opposite of Pansy's corner. Millicent scowled at them but left it at that, taking the now empty seat next to Nott.

Those who were serving detention uncapped their inkbottles and dipped their quills into the black liquid. Neither of the Slytherins wanted trouble with Professor Snape, it seemed. Even Crabbe and Goyle made an effort to write their lines without much complaining. At least there were no flying inkbottles this time.

Malfoy, Blaise and Millicent Bulstrode all started to read their books, and so Harry finally breathed a sigh of relief and turned to his own potions book. For minutes only the rustling of turning pages and the soft, sipping sound of quills being dipped into the ink was heard.

"Potter, levitate me some parchment," said Malfoy after a while.

"Come and get it yourself," replied Harry without looking up from his book.

"You levitated it to Crabbe and Goyle!" said Malfoy, bristling.

"Because they are too dumb to get it themselves. You are just a lazy sod," said Harry, smirking.

Malfoy glared but got up anyway. Harry put a stack of parchment, ink and a quill on the edge of his desk. In the back of the room Blaise was chuckling and wiping his eyes mirthfully. Harry smiled at him.

"You are flirting with Zabini," said Malfoy coldly when he reached Harry's desk and grabbed the parchment and ink.

"Jealous, Malfoy?" Harry asked quietly, smirking infuriatingly. He played with Malfoy's scarf, stroking softly over the fine silk. From her corner Pansy glared hatefully at Harry.

"I think not," replied Malfoy haughtily and stalked back to his seat.

After that no more interruptions followed. Everybody worked on their task until it was close to midnight and Snape came to dismiss them. Just as he did the last time he summoned the scrolls and looked over them.

"Abysmal, Mr Goyle," said Snape in his threatening baritone, "You should really try and acquaint yourself with the art of grammar and spelling ... Barely above Troll, Mr Crabbe … How you survived so long in this school really is a mystery to me …" Snape tossed Crabbe's and Goyle's work aside and sent them back to their dorms, not without docking thirty points first, "for shameful lack of effort."

Malfoy and Blaise were still in the room, contrary to Millicent Bulstrode who had left as soon as Snape had permitted her to leave. Hermione, however, stood in the doorway and waited for Harry. Her face was a bit flushed and her eyes gleamed brightly.

"Miss Parkinson," said Snape silkily when Crabbe and Goyle were gone, "As much as I appreciate your efforts to make your work please the eyes, I do not appreciate flowers and hearts all over your text. Twenty points from Slytherin for doodling on a work that is meant as punishment."

Pansy crossed her arms defiantly in front of her chest. "I think Potter is being unfair, Professor," she said coldly. "And impertinent."

"Really? How so?" Snape asked, toying with Pansy's scroll.

"Did you read the line he made me write?" said Pansy, seething. "It's absolutely impudent! And ridiculous, too!"

Snape sneered at her. "Then I suggest that you take a very close look at yourself, Miss Parkinson. If nothing else, Potter has a talent for seeing the obvious."

Harry bristled at that statement.

"Professor!" cried Pansy, scandalized. "How can you–"

"_Miss Parkinson_," breathed Snape in a deadly voice, "It is not you who gets Lucius Malfoy's letters. I believe he already informed you about Draco's free choice of partners." He pulled himself up to his real height and tossed Pansy's scroll of parchment aside. His black eyes glittered menacingly. "And frankly, I'm tired of receiving the same complaints over and over again."

"But Professor," whined Pansy, playing nervously with the hem of her cloak.

"No buts, Miss Parkinson," said Snape coolly. "Off to bed with you. We will talk later about this. Mr Nott, your scroll please …"

Nott handed Snape his work and waited mutely for his opinion. Snape took his time to look over the sentences. Harry caught Nott staring longingly at the door. Oh, he felt with the Slytherin; he was tired and exhausted and wanted nothing more than go to bed right now. Hermione smiled at him reassuringly from her place.

"That is quite agreeable, Mr Nott," said Snape after a short while. "You may go now."

Nott nodded at Snape and quickly left, squeezing past Hermione without saying a word. Only when he had left Snape allowed himself to rub the bridge of his nose in fatigue.

"Can we do something for you, Professor?" Malfoy asked politely.

"Thank you, Mr Malfoy, but I don't require your assistance tonight. Go to bed." Snape swished his wand and tidied the room effortlessly. "You others too. Mr Potter, I'll see you tomorrow for remedial Potions."

"Yes, Sir," said Harry and walked to the door.

He had barely left Snape's lair when Malfoy and Blaise caught up with him. Groaning silently, Harry gave Hermione a look and motioned her to head up with Blaise until he was done with Malfoy. Hermione nodded quietly and dragged Blaise along discreetly.

"I don't know what's going on here, Potter," said Malfoy once Hermione and Blaise were out of hearing range, "but I'll find out."

"I don't know what you mean," said Harry rudely. "You keep talking in riddles, Malfoy."

Malfoy stepped into Harry's personal space and touched the green scarf carefully, stroking along the fine texture. "I should have known that Pansy would bitch about this."

Harry resisted the urge to slap Malfoy's hand away and thus provoke a fight right under Snape's impressive nose. "Well, it's too late now, isn't it?" he asked mockingly.

Surprisingly, Malfoy smirked at him. "Yeah, but you keep telling her about snogging me, Potter. Are you sure you're not queer?" He preened his hair haughtily. "Ah, well. Even though you're a halfblood, there's nothing better than to have the Boy-Who-Lived after me, is there?"

"In your dreams, Malfoy, in your dreams. You know damn well that I only say that to keep Parkinson off my case. You have my pity, really." Harry smirked. "Oh, and please do invite me to your wedding. That's something I don't want to miss for anything in the world."

Instead of getting angry, Malfoy just snorted in disdain. "In case you really need it blunt and heavy, Potter, I'm not going to marry her." He leered at Harry and tugged at the scarf. "There are better people out there."

It was late and Harry was tired, maybe that was the reason why he felt so at ease tonight. But whatever the reason was, Malfoy's taunting did nothing to anger him. If anything, he enjoyed the surreal bantering. "Are you sure _you_ are not hitting on _me_, Malfoy?" he asked sarcastically.

"Maybe in your dreams, Potter," replied Malfoy smugly. "But by all means, keep dreaming. There's no one better than me, after all." His arrogant stance all but told Harry what an ego-boost this conversation was to Malfoy.

"Are you quite done now?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, I don't even know why I'm bothering with you at all."

Malfoy was still wearing his infuriatingly smug smirk. And the fact that his green silk scarf was draped carefully around Harry's neck didn't make it any better. Right now it felt like some sort of collar to Harry, a sign of ownership. It was stupid, he knew; in a week's time he would be rid of Malfoy's scarf and everything would be as it was before. Still, this strange lack of outright dislike unsettled him. The moment was oddly intimate too, and Harry was almost loath to destroy it by going back to his dorm.

"You know, Potter, when you're keeping your mouth shut you're almost bearable," said Malfoy after a few seconds of silence, still smirking.

That did it for Harry. Gone were any sentimental thoughts he might have had. With astounding speed he whipped out his wand and said coldly, "Grapara!" Twice.

"Potter! Hey, what did you – No! Unclamp me, Potter, right now!" Malfoy yelled.

Harry turned on his heel and stormed off, waving with his wand at Malfoy as he went. "Good night, Ferret," he called when he swept around a corner, leaving Malfoy with two thoroughly petrified hands.

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The whole Friday was a reminder of how much things had changed since the beginning of sixth year at Hogwarts. Harry and Malfoy glared at each other during breakfast, Care of Magical Creatures, Advanced Potions and lunch. It was just like old times, only that nobody, not even Ron, could really handle the sudden step back in their relationship to the Slytherin, contrary to Crabbe and Goyle who seemed delighted that their leader was back to his old, nasty self.

Right after Advanced Potions Blaise told Harry in a laugh-choked voice what had happened yesterday night after he had left Draco to himself with two basically useless hands. He had of course gotten rid of the curse, but Malfoy couldn't have done it himself because he hadn't been able to hold his wand at all. Which was, of course, exactly what Harry had been aiming for.

Blaise was nearly in tears of mirth as he told Harry all this; especially Malfoy's ranting and raving must have been a sight to behold.

"The little snot deserved it," said Harry after Blaise was done laughing. "One moment we're talking, and the next he's insulting me again."

"I don't doubt that," chuckled Blaise, holding his sides gingerly. "But what were you talking about anyway?"

"Nothing serious," growled Harry. Malfoy had just glared at him again, and it was driving him crazy. His right hand itched to hex the arrogant Slytherin again. And then again, just for good measure, house points be damned. "He just wanted to point out that he's not marrying Parkinson." He smirked. "I bet he doesn't want Ron or me spreading unbecoming rumours."

Blaise started laughing again, and not even the combined glares of Malfoy and Snape could stop him.

After lunch Harry and Hermione went to the library to get some homework done. Hermione also wanted to prepare for her next DADA lesson in the DA. Ginny and Susan Bones had taken to helping her teach, and the other girls and boys occasionally helped too, giving Hermione some much needed space. Ron would come later, when Snape was done torturing him and the other students through another lesson of Potions.

"Harry, would you get a book for me, please?" Hermione asked. She already had three thick books on the table and was frantically scribbling notes.

"Sure," said Harry, shrugging. "Which one?"

"'_Watching Warlocks_' from Waldemar Waldmeister," said Hermione. "Thanks, Harry."

"No problem. Where do I find it?"

"Just go down the corridor, to the seventh shelf to your right. It should be there, somewhere." Hermione looked gratefully at Harry.

He smiled at her and trudged off to find the requested tome. Trusting Hermione, it would probably weigh a few pounds.

Harry counted the rows as he was walking. At the seventh row he stopped and went right into the smaller corridor. It was fairly dark, so Harry lit the tip of his wand with the Lumos Charm and illuminated the spines of countless dusty books.

He searched along the top shelf and then worked his way down. The book wasn't there, at least not on the four top shelves. When he came to the shelves on the bottom shelf, however, he made a very interesting discovery.

"Yearbooks!" he whispered in awe. His finger slipped over several book spines, until he halted at a book that was labelled with '1984'. With trembling hands he pulled the heavy book out of the row. He knew whom he would see, and if not in this book, then in the next …

His hands started to shake as he saw the first page which contained a large group picture of the whole student body that had graduated that year. Right there, quite in the front and middle, stood his father, Sirius, Remus and Peter, together with his mother and Snape nearby. As soon as the portrayed people spotted Harry, they started to wave frantically, cheering silently at him. The Marauders outdid themselves with spontaneously building a pyramid to get higher and closer to Harry.

Feeling tears in his eyes, Harry waved back with a shaking hand. His mother smiled at him, and for Harry it was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen. Once again he felt saddened that her life had ended so quickly, that she and his father never had the chance to spend their lives as they wished. When the pyramid tumbled down after a few minutes, Harry laughed quietly. Sirius and Remus shared a sloppy kiss which had James turning away in mock-disgust. Wormtail looked at the pair with wide eyes, and Harry scowled.

For a few more minutes he just sat there and stared at his family interact with each other. Only then he was able to free his gaze the unfolding scenes.

He stroked over his mother's bright red hair and pretty face with his index finger, softly whispering her name. He then thumbed through the book until he found the pages that were devoted to his father, mother, Sirius and Remus individually.

As expected, his father, Sirius and Remus had achieved quite a reputation as pranksters, but there were still very well meaning comments from their teachers and classmates scrawled over their pages. His mother had collected quite a few awards for her outstanding abilities in Charms, which surprised Harry a bit. Not even Sirius or Remus had told him that she had been that good. Out of curiosity he then searched for Snape's page. The Potions Master looked just as forbidding as his older self, only less poised. He glared at Harry, as if willing him to combust on the spot just for opening his page. Astounded, Harry discovered that Snape had been more than outstanding at Potions; he had been a prodigy. Dumbledore had given him a lengthy comment, wishing him well and all the luck in the world to earn a living with his talent for Potions.

Harry was a bit sad when he flicked back to Sirius' page. Snape had had so many chances after school, but he had decided to join Voldemort rather than pursuing a sky-rocketing career as independent Potions Master. And now he was stuck at Hogwarts, teaching brats he couldn't stand having around.

Sirius' young and incredibly handsome face blinked back at Harry, as if wondering why he was so subdued all of a sudden. Harry stroked over it absentmindedly, making Sirius twist and writhe under his fingers. It almost looked as if he was ticklish.

"Oh, sorry," said Harry when he noticed what he was doing. Sirius mock-scowled at him and smoothed his ruffled hair. Suddenly Harry had an inspiration. It came like a shock, and the longer he looked at Sirius' photo, the more confused he became. Sirius stared back uncomprehendingly, raking both hands through his black tresses.

With a loud snap Harry closed the book and ran back to Hermione. Forgotten was the book she had requested; this was far more important.

"Harry, what have you–," said Hermione when Harry skidded to a halt in front of her, banging the book on the table.

"Look at this, Hermione!" said Harry frantically. "Take it, go on!"

Hermione huffed but complied. When she saw the first page too, a gasp escaped her. "Harry!" she hissed. "I-I can't believe it! Where did you find this?"

"Go to Sirius' page," urged Harry, ignoring her question.

Hermione quickly found the page and stared right into picture-Sirius' young face. She gasped again. "What does that mean?" she asked in a weak voice. "His eyes … do you think it's an impostor?"

"I don't know," said Harry, equally weak, now that Hermione knew about it. "But somehow I can't believe it. He could have killed me a dozen times over if he'd wanted to."

"But why?" Hermione gnawed on her lower lip, looking worriedly at the photo. "There must be an explanation."

"I'll mirror-call Sirius tonight," said Harry in determination.

Both Harry and Hermione stared down onto Sirius' face, directly into his eyes.

They were a steely grey.

But before Harry had a chance to make his call he had to get his Occlumency lesson with Snape over with. He absolutely felt no desire to meet the man tonight but knew that he couldn't afford getting lazy about it. It was just a bout of good fortune that Hermione had no detention tonight; that way she could stand by him when he asked his godfather about the colour of his eyes.

Harry's throat constricted painfully when he thought about the possibility of Sirius being an impostor who was fooling both him and Remus. He loved the man so much, regarded him as some kind of father, and most of all he trusted him with his life. Remus trusted him as well, and he knew Sirius much longer than Harry did; surely no impostor could have fooled Remus' senses … a wild hope flared in his belly and chest and spread through his whole body. Maybe everything was really simple?

Hermione urged Harry softly to do his homework, regardless of the first shock and the panic that had risen in both of them. When Ron joined them a bit later his almost predictable cry of "Bloody hell!" oddly soothed both Harry's and Hermione's nerves. And Ron spoke out loud what Harry had been thinking the whole time.

"He has eyes just like that git Malfoy, Harry," said Ron heatedly. "Snuffles will have one hell of explaining to do!"

"Malfoy?" Hermione asked, peering down at Sirius' proud face. "Are you sure?"

"Very sure," replied Ron grimly. "Show me a picture and I'll prove it to you."

Harry jumped up. "I'll go dig up his yearbook. I'll be just a minute."

With his heart beating loudly in his chest, Harry returned to the shelf where he had first discovered Hogwarts' yearbooks of graduates. In his head he did some quick thinking. In fourth year Rita Skeeter had written an article and quoted Malfoy senior … Wasn't he forty-one then? Harry searched along the spines of the books. If he was calculating right Malfoy was now forty-three, meaning he had graduated a few years earlier than his parents and Snape.

Harry grabbed the yearbook titled '_1978_' and opened it at the first page, but no known face greeted him. He quickly closed the book and put it back to the others. His next try was the tome labelled '_1979_', and as he opened the group picture he had found gold. There he stood, a young and very, very proud Lucius Malfoy. Even more than twenty years ago he had worn his hair long, and even in a picture so small his clothes looked extremely expensive.

Slamming the book shut, Harry scrambled back to his friends. Ron and Hermione were looking at him expectantly. Gasping for breath, Harry handed Hermione the book, leaving it to her to find Lucius Malfoy's personal page.

"BLOODY HELL!" roared Ron only seconds later.

Harry, who had just closed his eyes in rightful emotional exhaustion, jumped again. "What? What?" he asked, almost squeaking like Professor Flitwick. He wasn't sure he was really up to this.

"Harry," said Hermione weakly, "I think you should have a look at him …" She turned the book around to Harry.

With trembling fingers Harry pulled the heavy book towards him, forcing himself to get this over with. Bracing himself he stared at young Lucius Malfoy's face.

"Oh, sweet mother of Hecate!" he blurted in shock.

"One doesn't see the connection quite so well now," whispered Hermione. "Harry, you should really ask Sirius about his family tree, don't you think?"

Harry slumped wordlessly into a chair and stared at the photo. Lucius Malfoy preened himself under his sightless stare and leered at Harry's stunned face. Ron pulled a face.

"Gross," he said, shuddering. "The git is checking you out, Harry!"

"Really?" Hermione asked, pushing past Ron to have a look herself. "Really! Oh god!"

"Wait until I tease Malfoy _fils_ about that," barked Ron, laughing sinisterly.

Harry pulled the book closer to him and in his lap. With slightly shaking fingers he touched the picture and stared at Malfoy's eyes. The colour and even the shape of his eyes were similar to Sirius'. He was aghast that he had never noticed before, and he had stared both Lucius and Draco Malfoy in the eyes more than once. Picture-Malfoy's leer only broadened, and he flipped a strand of white-blond hair over his shoulder.

"'Mione, could you give me the other book, please?" Harry asked quietly. "I want to try something …"

Hermione handed him the other yearbook which was still opened at Sirius' page. Harry grabbed it and placed it right in front of Malfoy's page, so the photos were facing each other.

"Oh my freakin' God!" hissed Ron when the pictures both sprang to life. Sirius and Malfoy first glared at each other, then they engaged in silent yelling and finally both suddenly left their frames, only to meet in Mulcibler's picture and beat the stuffing out of each other. Harry had to flip the page quickly to follow them.

"Just what the hell was going on between those two?" Hermione asked, stunned at the men's reaction to each other.

"They know each other well enough to hate each other," said Harry, following the fight with interest.

Currently Sirius was pulling at Malfoy's hair, but Malfoy was retaliating successfully with smacking Sirius squarely across the jaw. And suddenly everything got wild.

Harry's father, mother, Remus, Narcissa Black of all people and a few other students whose names Harry didn't know, engaged in the fight and tried to separate Malfoy and Sirius. Sirius landed a good punch into Malfoy's stomach, only to get hissy-clawed by Narcissa, who, in turn, was heartily and heartfelt punched by Lily Evans. Harry assumed that both Narcissa and Malfoy were already engaged at that time. Bellatrix Lestrange tried to curse Sirius' back, but Snape appeared in the corner of the picture and caught the woman in a full body-bind. His unpleasant sneer told Harry very clearly what he thought of her, even twenty years ago.

"This is better than Muggle VT!" said Ron excitedly. "And man, your mom could punch!"

"TV, Ron, it's called TV," said Harry absently, closing both books carefully, much to Ron's dismay. "But one thing is clear, Malfoy and Sirius know each other better than we knew."

"It could have been because of Narcissa," said Hermione sceptically. "But we'll ask him tonight. I'm so curious about it all!"

"Then you might imagine how _I_ feel right now," said Harry dryly. With a determination he hadn't thought he possessed he put the books away on an unoccupied chair, well out of his sight. "Don't we have homework to do, 'Mione?"

Hermione raked both hands through her bushy hair and sighed. "Yes, Harry dear, we do." Stoically, she sat down and picked up her abandoned quill. Over her halfway finished essay it had spattered a pretty pattern of ink dots. They were gone after a quick spell, though.

Ron looked at them weirdly but decided not to ask. He just plopped down onto the last free chair und took out his parchment, ink and quill.

The clock ticked away until it was time for dinner. By then Harry and Ron had finished all of their homework for the next week and had even helped Hermione developing the lesson plan for the DA.

Together they put the borrowed books back to their respective places, although Harry found it tremendously difficult to let go of the yearbook that starred his parents' graduation. Hermione and Ron both looked at him with pity and granted him the minute he needed to compose himself.

Madam Pince glared at them when they left her sacred library, but Hermione's silencing charm had kept their raised voices well out of her attention. Otherwise Ron and Harry both would have been banned from the library three times over already.

On their way to the Great Hall they were silent. Nobody wanted to speak about their latest discovery, although Harry was pretty sure that Ron and Hermione still were just as shaken about the whole thing as he was. And now that he thought about it … Lucius Malfoy's photo _had_ hit on him.

"Ugh," said Harry quietly.

Now that was something he'd rather not think about at all. It was disturbing enough that Sirius and Malfoy were obviously related to some degree. And he was not looking forward to the moment when Ron decided to tease Malfoy junior about his father's taste in, well, men.

Luna joined them when they were just a few corridors away from the Great Hall. Her quiet presence was very calming to Harry, and he relaxed greatly in her company. When they parted to get to their respective house tables, Luna brushed her hand softly over Harry's. Harry smiled gratefully at her, squeezing her hand briefly in return.

Seamus, Neville and Dean had saved them seats, so Harry, Ron and Hermione sat down and helped themselves to small pastries and pumpkin juice.

Harry couldn't help himself and stared over at the Slytherin table, searching out Malfoy's haughty features and assessing the blonde's eyes. Ron caught him staring and even poked him warningly in the ribs, but didn't say anything. Harry stared absentmindedly at Malfoy until it was time to get up and go to Snape for his Occlumency lesson.

"We'll wait up for you," said Ron quietly when Harry got up. "And don't you dare start without us, understood?"

Harry smiled at him and Hermione and nodded. "Of course not. Now wish me luck with Snape." He grinned wryly. "I'm so distracted right now, I bet you'll have to put my pieces back together later on …"

"As long as Snape can't look into your most _important_ thoughts everything should be alright," said Hermione meaningfully.

Harry bowed mockingly. "That's why I have to go now and not fifteen minutes later. See you later." He waved at his friends and left the Great Hall quickly, pushing past some late Ravenclaw fifth years. Occlumency tonight would be an unexpected challenge, but Harry was determined to stand up to Snape, no matter what.

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**End of chapter 10**


	12. Chapter 11

_Disclaimer_: Nothing belongs to me, except the plot. :-)

_Note_: I'm very happy about all the reviews ect I have received for the last chapter. Thank you so much! Please keep reading, even though I'm slow. ^_^ My thanks, as usual, also go to my fantastic beta **Licelli**. You rock!

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**Chapter 11**

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Occlumency was never funny, but Harry would have given a lot to have a lesson like those he'd had before the Christmas holidays. Instead of awaiting Harry's attack, Snape sprang to life as soon as Harry entered his office. They fought for control for quite some time until Harry had to retreat eventually and put his whole knowledge to good use to fend Snape off.

"Pitiful!" snarled Snape when a trap propelled him violently out of Harry's mind. "Have you no finesse, boy?"

"_Legilimens_!" shouted Harry and dove into Snape's mind like a vengeful Harpy, rampaging through the soft gauze of Snape's defences and ripping them to shreds.

Snape threw him out soon after. Panting, they stared each other in the eyes. Loathing pulsed between them, but also grudging respect.

"Trying is not enough, Potter," said Snape harshly when they had recovered from both their attacks. "You need to be fully in it, stupid boy!"

Harry gritted his teeth and wiped his sleeve over his sweaty brow. "All I can _do_ is try, Snape!" he snapped back. "Don't think I am stupid just because I don't get it right the first time!"

Both he and Snape brandished their wands like swords, and in a heartbeat all sense of honour, common sense or Occlumency and Legilimency was forgotten. Instead, both erupted like a long-simmering volcano, clashing heatedly against each other. Spells and curses flowed like water over their lips, and somewhere, deep in the confines of his mind, Harry was infinitely grateful for the training he'd gotten in the DA.

"_Locomotor_ Snape!" yelled Harry, catching Snape completely off-guard. He let the man crash against a book shelf before he let the spell snap.

With a grunt but still as agile as a big cat, Snape got back to his feet. With one hand he pushed his greasy hair back from his face. "Interesting, Potter. _Aradia_!"

"_Protego_!" Harry dove behind his shield and rolled over the floor, managing to send a stinging hex right into Snape's side as he went. Unfortunately the man was just as sneaky as Harry and got him with a twisting spell to the ankle before he sank down, holding his ribs in pain.

"Merlin, Potter, get a grip! Where's your pride?" snarled Snape, though not without a hint of pride in his cold voice.

Harry grunted and healed his ankle with a quick spell while Snape talked.

"_Finite_," said Snape, pointing his own wand to his chest.

"_Expell_–" Harry, who was just about to disarm Snape, suddenly let his own wand clatter to the floor and held his head tightly in his hands. "_Ooowwww_!"

At the same time, Snape hissed angrily and hastily rolled up his left sleeve. Blinded from the pain in his head, Harry just saw a blurry, dark spot where the Dark Mark sat on Snape's pale forearm. It glowed, and if Snape's faint moaning was any indication, next to the increasing pain in his scar and forehead, then Voldemort was quite angry at the moment.

"Get out of here, Potter," said Snape in a clipped, tightly controlled voice. "_Now_!"

Harry understood the urgency in Snape's order and scrambled to get to the door, only barely realising that he grabbed his wand reflexively from the floor. As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, the pain subsided somewhat. Moaning in relief, Harry slumped against the door and thought about the sudden pain. Voldemort really must be in a beastly mood to feel such extreme anger.

Harry snorted angrily.

"I bet something didn't go as you planned, you bastard!" Ice cold rage flowed through his veins, and for long seconds Harry was sure he could have strangled Voldemort with his bare hands and then incinerate his lame excuse for a body into stinking dust and a lot of hot air.

It took him quite some time to get down from this fit of rage and his too-eager powers. His harsh breath was the only sound in the deathly quiet dungeons. Usually the icy stonewalls carried sound back and forth a dozen times until it died down, but now they seemed to swallow each and every noise and thus made the dungeons a spooky, eerie territory.

With a barely audible thud Harry let his head plonk back against the door. His head was still killing him, but now it was at least bearable. The unpleasant pulsing slowly ebbed away and left a dull ache that was throbbing faintly behind Harry's eyes and unnerved him greatly.

After a few more minutes Harry was relaxed enough to go back to Gryffindor Tower. Soft shuffling from one of the dark corridors made him check for his wand before he pulled his cloak tighter around his still gangly body and slunk away from Snape's office.

For a short moment he thought about going back in and check on him, but then again he wasn't really keen on another round of screaming. And Snape surely wasn't, either.

Nursing his tender head, Harry made his way back to the portrait of the Fat Lady. She looked concerned as she let him in but thankfully didn't say anything about it.

As promised, Ron and Hermione were waiting for him. Harry realised that it wasn't that late, that he and Snape had barely gotten around to go at each others' throats when Voldemort's mood swing had effectively rendered them invalid for tonight.

"Harry!" gasped Hermione when he got to the sofa she and Ron sat on. "What happened this time? Did Professor Snape _hit_ you?"

Harry felt an unpleasant twinge in his scar and pulled a face. Ron scooted closer to have a better look at Harry's pale face and the angry, red mark on his forehead.

"No, yes," mumbled Harry and sank into the plush sofa cushions. "I mean, we were fighting again, but that's not the reason."

"Is it You-Know-Who?" Ron asked quietly. He pointed at Harry's forehead. "Your scar looks scary, mate, really."

"Actually, it was," admitted Harry. He then groaned and sank even further into the couch. "It was like, I don't know, like getting a sledgehammer right in my head or something. It was just there, and Snape felt it, too. Through his Dark Mark." He rubbed on a spot on his left forearm. "He told me to leave, and it got better after I left his office."

"Voldemort!" hissed Hermione in disgust. "I wonder what it was now."

"It was his mood, 'Mione. He was really pissed about something," replied Harry darkly. "I wish I could transfer _my_ moods to _him_, to show him how fucking _annoying_ it is."

"Actually you could attempt to–," said Hermione, just to be quickly cut off by Harry.

"Don't even finish that sentence, 'Mione," growled Harry. "I'm not in the mood tonight. Let me come down a bit before we talk to Snuffles and Moony, alright?"

Hermione looked put out about the rude interruption but apparently understood that Harry really had no head for that tonight. Ron offered Harry a Chocolate Frog to pull himself a bit together, and despite the urge to throw the sweet in a corner, Harry ate it and was grateful for the warmth and security it gave him. Even his headache ebbed further down.

Harry pondered shortly whether it would be wise to call Sirius and Remus tonight at all. In his current foul mood he was more likely to bite their heads off for nothing than anything else.

But Ron and Hermione had been looking forward to it all day, and he was still more than curious about this whole affair between Sirius and Lucius Malfoy.

Ron had the fabulous idea to call Dobby and ask him for hot chocolate and some late-night sandwiches. Once the food was there Harry could have hugged his best friend. His appetite increased with each small sandwich he ate, and the hot chocolate chased the last remnants of his grumpiness away.

It was close to eleven o'clock when Harry felt ready to contact Sirius. He, Ron and Hermione sneaked into the boys' dorm and quickly perched together on Harry's bed, closing the bed hangings and spelling themselves safe against eavesdroppers and invaders.

"Are you sure you're up to this?" Hermione asked worriedly. "We could contact Sirius tomorrow night if you don't feel well."

"It's okay, 'Mione," replied Harry. "Besides, I'm dying to know. I won't wait any longer."

Barely suppressing a sigh of relief, Hermione sank back on a pillow. "All right, Harry. As long as you'll be fine."

Harry smirked at her. "I'm sure I'll be. But thanks for your concern."

Hermione flushed and swatted him lightly. "Call Sirius already, will you?"

Harry did, jabbing a snickering Ron into the ribs. "Shut up, or I'll throw you out and tell you the leftover facts tomorrow." He poked the surface of the mirror with his right index finger. "Sirius, can you hear me?"

Faint rustling came from the mirror, and then, suddenly, the shiny surface rippled and Sirius' frowning face appeared.

"Harry!" he called. "This is not the most opportune of times, you know?"

"Why?" Harry asked. "Are you rolling in the hay with Remus again?" Ron and Hermione sniggered at that.

"No, unfortunately not," said Sirius and pouted. "It's too bloody cold where we are to even think about that. Remus would rip my head off if I tried to take his clothes off."

"Enough!" shouted Ron and covered his ears in despair. "My virgin ears!"

Sirius barked a laugh. "Virgin ears, Ron? Ow!" Sirius' face contorted in a brief expression of pain and he seemed to rub a part of his body that wasn't within the frame of the mirror. "Whatever did you hit me for, Moony?"

"You honestly don't know, Black?" a voice quipped snidely. "Stop needling the kids."

Sirius sighed. "You don't have any sense of humour, Remus. Alright, kiddos, what are you calling me for? We were just about to call it a night."

"Why is there white steam coming from your mouth?" Hermione asked, frowning. "You aren't outside the house, are you?"

"Are you camping or something?" Ron asked, squinting at the tiny square that allowed them a peek at Sirius. "And why would you do that in winter?"

"I think I've got a vague idea …," said Harry slowly. "Don't tell me you have started putting The Plan into action."

"The Plan, with capital letters?" echoed Sirius in amusement. "If you can call it that … Remus keeps telling me it's pure idiocy, but well, I think we have. Buckbeak certainly is happy."

"They don't," said Hermione calmly, too calmly for Harry's liking. "Tell me they're still at Grimmauld Place."

"We're currently in Wales, somewhere in the northern part. There was a blizzard and we had to find shelter," said Sirius. "At least our tracks are covered, so don't worry."

"Covered tracks …," repeated Harry monotonously.

"Calm down, Harry. I said I would be with him, and I am. The stubborn mule wouldn't even wait another week or two until we planned everything properly." Remus cuffed Sirius in the head and looked apologetically at Harry. "We will be careful, okay? I promise."

"What's that all about?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"Sirius and Remus are sending Buckbeak back to the Forbidden Forest," said Harry tightly. He shook his head, shaking all his agitation and irritation off of him. "But that's not really the point. I wanted him to set Buckbeak free. He was rotting away in the attic."

"What are you calling for, anyway, Harry?" said Sirius, cocking his head. Seemingly out of nowhere a large beak descended on him and settled on his shoulder. Sirius absently started to pet Buckbeak's beak.

"Oh, that!" called Hermione. "We found something very interesting in the Hogwarts library, and now we have some questions."

"Fire away, kiddos," replied Sirius, grinning happily at them.

Hermione looked at Harry and motioned him to do the questioning since it concerned his family. Harry cleared his throat and looked Sirius straight in the eyes.

"Well, we found your yearbook and saw an early picture of you and wondered … your eye colour is a bit off, if you know what I mean." Harry watched with some satisfaction as Sirius flinched, followed by Remus who listened intently. "They are grey, Sirius! What did you do? Are you even my real godfather or did I just uncover another traitor?"

"No, Harry, of course not! It's all really simple," Sirius hurried to explain. "You see, before your parents went into hiding they bugged me about a disguise so Voldemort and my family wouldn't find me too easily. I tried to change my eye colour, but James and Remus distracted me and I botched it up. Until now I was never able to return them to my old colour." He shrugged carelessly.

"He's right," said Remus, looking very remorseful. "It was my fault, and I'm sorry that we never told you. I guess it just never came up … anyway, both of us can't take it off right now, and it doesn't bother anyone."

"Bill could help you and get rid of it in a second," said Ron, speaking for the first time in a while.

"I know," replied Sirius and grinned. "But I'm in no particular hurry to get my old eye colour back. I'm still a convicted murderer, and it would remind me of my family, so everything that is even remotely helping me hide or forget is a good thing right now. I'll get rid of it as soon as my name is cleared. I promise you that, Harry. I really never meant to keep a thing like that from you. And I'm no impostor, because the Black Trap Map discovers Polyjuice Potion, do you remember?"

"And I sure know who he is," said Remus, blushing. "I can smell him, and I know every little quirk of him."

"As do I of Remus," replied Sirius flirtatiously.

"I believe you," said Harry shortly, "but there's something else, something far more interesting than your eyes."

"Actually," cut Hermione in, "it has to do with your eyes too, Sirius." Harry rolled his eyes at her.

"You see, we compared your picture with Lucius Malfoy's picture," said Ron, glaring at Sirius. "And you looked like brothers; your eyes really look similar."

"Besides, you acted as if you know each other well enough to go at each others' throats," said Harry reproachfully. "Why didn't you tell me when I first saw the family tree?"

Sirius looked shocked and needed a few seconds to regain his composure. Then he suddenly chuckled, but it didn't sound particularly mirthful. "Ah, I see, you found out about the skeleton in my cupboard. Adding to the others you already know about, that is."

"What are you talking about?" demanded Harry irritably. "Please make sense, because I really want to understand!"

"You already know about Bellatrix and Narcissa, don't you?" Sirius asked in a suddenly tired voice. "Bellatrix is my cousin and Narcissa Malfoy is her sister. Both are deep into the Dark Arts as you well know."

"Eww!" said Ron in disgust. "That means Narcissa married inside the family! It's no wonder that Malfoy junior is such a demented prick."

"Actually," said Sirius, suddenly all but glaring at Ron, "Narcissa and Lucius come from very different branches of the family. They're practically not related at all, just on paper. Lucius Malfoy, however, is a third or fourth cousin of mine. I believe our great great great grandmothers were sisters. They married into our families at the same time, creating a tie between them."

"How does that explain your eyes?" Harry asked, now more curious than anything else. "I mean, no gene pool is that dominant, are they?"

Sirius quirked a little smile. "Well, it's a bit different with us. After Amorelia and Amelie, our great great, well, you know, grandmothers, the Blacks only intermingled with purebloods of the wizarding kind. The Malfoys, however … That's another story. It's just why we have the same eyes. And that's also the reason why Lucius and I have them but not Bellatrix or Narcissa. They come from a different tree; actually their parents just married into the line, and as it proved they didn't hold the genes." He smirked. "And if you look at 'ickle Bellatrix and Narcissa a bit more closely, you'll see what I mean."

"They are half sisters!" blurted Hermione. "I _knew_ it! Their looks are just too different to be closely related."

Sirius barked a laugh. "Yes. Bellatrix actually is a Black, but Narcissa was already born when her father married the widow of Bella's father. Bella's father also was a widower of a daughter of the house of Black before he married and got her, so they're not even remotely related to me in all reality for which I shall be forever grateful."

"It means a lot to you, doesn't it?" Harry asked. "I mean, I wouldn't want to be related to Lestrange either …"

"Just look at the Dursleys," said Hermione hatefully. "I always wonder how such despicable people can be related to Harry, and yet they are."

"But the Black maidens do a decent job recently to keep up their reputation," quipped Remus. "Bellatrix is licking Voldemort's boots and Narcissa is wreaking havoc in the Ministry."

"It would be like Harry having his fat swine of an uncle in a headlock and Dudley punching him in the gut," said Ron tersely. "Which would be fine with me, mind you, as long as his piggy cousin gets something of his own, too."

"But why are you and Malfoy hating each other so much, the fact aside that he supports Voldemort and you don't?" Harry asked desperately, changing back to the topic at hand. "Not that I'm complaining, the git deserves it."

"He was sniffing around Lily during her pregnancy," growled Sirius. "Before they went into hiding, Lucius came to visit me quite frequently, even after our huge row at school. I guess he wanted to convince me to join Voldemort." He smirked gleefully. "And I also believe he was being nagged by his lovely young wife, too."

"And seeing that James, Sirius, Lily and I were almost always together, even after school, he ran into Lily and James as well." Remus tapped his chin with a gloved finger. Stray snowflakes coloured his greying hair even whiter than it already was. "Now that I think about it, he _was_ always around her when they met."

Sirius scowled. "It's just like Lucius. He panted after everybody who was even remotely edible."

Remus sniffed. "Do you remember that he only started with it once Lily was already pregnant? The git almost seemed to enjoy her company."

Sirius glowered. "Pervert. And Lily was too nice to tell him off." He sighed. "Ah, well, Lucius Malfoy has nothing if not manners and charm if he wants to. But don't tell anybody I said that, all right?"

"And what did my father do about it?" Harry asked, feeling an angry pounding start in the back of his head. "He just didn't leave her on her own with Malfoy, did he?"

"Of course not," said Remus, a bit affronted that Harry could even think such a preposterous thing. "He kept a close watch, but Lucius Malfoy was and is a force to be reckoned with, and it would have proven unwise to step on his toes too early. Actually, I think Lily kind of liked his attentions. She was always very polite with Lucius Malfoy. He was even allowed to touch her baby belly once."

"I don't even think he knew what he was doing," said Sirius haughtily. "Maybe he wanted some nice company. You've seen Narcissa. She's a frigid bitch and not able to share anything with anybody."

Remus looked at Sirius, and for a few moments they communicated without words, in a way only very good friends and lovers can. Finally Sirius nodded in defeat and returned to his task of petting Buckbeak's head. Remus played with his cloak before he cleared his throat and looked once more at Harry, Ron and Hermione.

"There's something else you should probably know before you find out about it yourself and get angry at us." Remus took a deep breath and scooted closer to Sirius. "Well, you see, Malfoy's last action of courtesy was … he attended your naming ceremony, Harry."

"He _what_?!" Harry, Ron and Hermione roared.

"Sssh!" Remus shushed them and Sirius pushed Buckbeak's big head away.

"He wanted to persuade me, and this was his last attempt. He came with Narcissa and Draco, and he even gave you," he looked pointedly at Harry, "his blessings. I don't really know what he wanted; he didn't talk to me all that much, just congratulated that you had been named properly." He smiled a sardonic little smile. "Ah, but Narcissa was a bit more vocal about their goal. She told me in clear words that I should come and join Voldemort, or die. And that Lily and James should watch out for their hide in the future."

Hermione and Ron threw Harry a meaningful glance, and he glanced meaningfully back. Remus and Sirius noticed the passing look but didn't say anything.

"Anyway, us being related and on different sides of the proverbial fence was the reason for our ongoing fights at school," said Sirius, oblivious to the fact that Harry, Ron and Hermione in front of him were glaring at him calculatingly. "We just hated each other for what the other was."

"Well, that certainly explains a lot," said Harry, finally relenting. "Thank you for telling me. I have just one more question: was it the same ceremony during which you were named my godfather?"

"Uhm, yes," said Sirius, puzzled about Harry's sudden mood swing. "Why do you ask?"

Harry sighed. "Oh, I guess I wish I could have seen that, you and that git standing there. How was the party, anyway?"

"Aside from the Malfoys, quite pleasant," replied Sirius, grinning dreamily. "Aah, it is as if I were there just yesterday, wearing my best suit and trying not to stumble about everybody and everything …"

"Such occasions are a tradition in pureblood families such as James'. His family was besides itself when you were born, everybody was so happy." Remus sighed sadly at the long since gone moments. "A naming ceremony not only shall bless the child but also offer the whole family an opportunity to reacquaint and welcome the newest member in their midst. It's almost holy, with all the celebratory magic flowing about."

"You know, Harry, I guess I was glad that Malfoy came," said Sirius, once again so uncharacteristically serious all of a sudden. "It meant that he hadn't given up on the idea of us being some sort of family yet. Now it's too late to tie loose ends, but it's still a nice feeling somehow, even after all those years. Plus, he gave you his blessing."

"Yeah, we know that," said Ron, shifting impatiently on his spot on the bed. "But what does that all mean?"

Sirius quirked a small, almost triumphant smile. "You of all people should know that, Ron, because I know you had a naming ceremony of your own, and, as I recall, there was quite a bit of your family present, giving you their blessings. You're a lucky boy."

Hermione rolled her eyes and blew her fringe out of her eyes. Harry noticed that it was getting a bit long and wondered if Hermione wanted to grow it out now.

"And so aching for knowledge it hurts," she snapped. "Ron, receiving a person's blessing means they transfer a tiny bit of their life force to you, aiming to protect you against evil and hurt. A blessing is much like a wizard's oath; it's magically binding. Someone can only give a sincere blessing seeing that the magic of a ceremony only allows goodwill and nothing else." She smirked. "Did you ever wonder why you survived so many scuffles, Ron? You have a large, loving family, and I bet they shared their goodwill generously with you."

Ron blushed and lowered his eyes. "But still, why would Lucius sodding Malfoy bless Harry? I mean, he is the son of a family that fought against his cause."

"But he's my family," said Sirius gently. "Sometimes blood really is thicker than any treaty and any other bond. At least I hope it is, because he's damn powerful. Harry should be lucky that Malfoy gave him his blessing on his first birthday and not killed him outright. It even may have helped to save his life later."

They all stared at each other for a few, thick minutes. Harry couldn't quite believe the things he had heard tonight. Malfoy and Sirius related; Malfoy attending his naming ceremony, with the consent of his parents and the other guests; and, most crass of all, Sirius being wistful about it.

Well, Harry thought miserably, at least he's decided upon being brutally honest with me from now on. Hopefully there'll be no more secrets, at least no new ones.

Harry soon ended the call after he'd made sure that Remus would keep his watchful eyes on his godfather and keep him out of trouble and that Sirius and Remus would get in touch with them when they reached Hogwarts, even if it was just for a few minutes. More than ever Harry needed to make sure that Sirius and Remus were well; he could not and would not lose them.

Without a word Harry, Hermione and Ron parted for the night. Especially Harry had a lot to think about, and he wasn't completely sure that his night would be restful. At least it was Friday and he had the weekend to think things over. And maybe, just maybe, hexing Smith into oblivion at the first stupid comment would help release some leftover tension.

"You're thinking too loudly, mate," said Ron sleepily. "G'night …" He rolled over with loudly rustling covers. The other boys in the dorm grunted quietly and also turned around.

"Night, Ron," replied Harry, frowning.

Yes, it would be a long night.

-------

On Saturday morning Harry really didn't want to get up, not that he had any choice with Ron as his dorm mate. The overzealous redhead bounded on Harry's bed and jumped up and down until Harry had had enough and got up grumpily.

"I swear, Ron, one of these days you'll regret that," snarled Harry on his way to the shower.

"Stop whining and get ready," said Ron, completely unimpressed by the threat. "You've got half an hour for breakfast, and then our meeting is supposed to start."

Harry cursed heartily and raced into the shower, throwing himself bravely under the cold water and lathering himself roughly with shower gel. "Why didn't you wake me earlier?" he yelled through the half-opened door of the shower.

"You looked as if you needed your sleep," yelled Ron back, making Dean and Neville jump at the sound of his booming voice.

Harry quickly rinsed himself off and left the shower in just a towel, shivering in the cool air. "Still, now we have to hurry, and you know how I hate that." He squinted accusingly at Ron before he tossed the towel away in favour of a fresh pair of boxers.

"Wow, Harry, nice package you've got there," teased Seamus cheerfully. "I wonder what Parvati would pay for a picture of it."

"Finnigan, if you, by any chance, value your manly bits, then shut the fuck up," shot Harry back. "Plus, I'll tell Blaise what you've just said."

"You've got no sense of humour, mate," grumbled Seamus, offended.

Harry ignored him and quickly dressed in his favourite clothes. As an afterthought he wound Malfoy's scarf around his neck. Seamus looked at him oddly but Harry paid him no mind. Ron helped him to pin his cloak around his shoulders, and then the whole group dashed to the Great Hall, eager to stuff their stomachs before a new, undoubtedly trying meeting of the DA.

Hermione awaited them just outside of the common room; Harry saw Parvati and Lavender walk around a corner, so Hermione probably had been talking with the other two girls until now and hadn't been standing all by herself. In the way of an apology Harry kissed her on the top of her head and walked with her, his arm around her slender shoulders. Ron threw Harry an annoyed and accusing look but Harry just smiled winningly.

"Well, are you up to our meeting today?" Hermione asked when she pushed the doors that led to the Great Hall open. She mock-squinted in the general direction of the Ravenclaw table. "I believe Smith is in best health and ready to annoy you, Harry."

Harry snorted. "Thank you, 'Mione."

"Five galleons that he'll bitch about one thing or another before the meeting even started," said Seamus, smirking expectantly.

"I bet five that he'll wait until we're in the room," said Ron.

Dean, Neville and Hermione were all rolling their eyes.

Harry tuned their bickering out when the owls came into the Great Hall to deliver the mail. Hermione practically ran to the Gryffindor table to get her owl.

The bird screeched impatiently and then landed amidst jars of jam and honey, oatmeal and toast. Some students laughed about the scene the disgruntled post owl made. Hermione quickly untied the Daily Prophet from its leg and paid the owl the obligatory five knuts.

Harry and Ron sauntered up to the table and peered over Hermione's shoulder since she had started reading the headlines without bothering to sit down.

A few moments later Ron gently pushed her on the bench and filled a cup of tea for her. Harry, Dean, Neville and Seamus joined swiftly, grabbing rolls and oatmeal as they did. Parvati glanced at him, or, Harry noticed wryly, rather at his neck and thus at the glaringly green scarf, before turning to Lavender and whispering something into her ear.

After a while Hermione banged the paper down and started to drink her now cold tea. Ron rolled his eyes.

"And? Is there something new about Umbridge?" Harry asked.

"You don't see me screaming and ripping my hair out," replied Hermione dryly. "No, it isn't that bad – today. But give the old toad another week to digest her Yule food and she'll be back with new, _wonderful_ ideas." Her scornful tone and downright murderous scowl let the boys retreat in sudden cautiousness.

Harry decided to have breakfast and think about Hermione's aggressive mood later. Ron and Seamus seemed to share his sentiment because suddenly the table around their group was shrouded in voracious silence. Only Colin and Dennis were whispering quietly among themselves, too quietly for some uninvolved third years to overhear them accidentally.

To Harry it seemed as if the whole student body was awfully silent today. A short look at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall showed nothing amiss, only too much snow still, and all tables were fully seated. Even the Slytherins were complete, although Harry knew from Blaise how much they loved to sleep in.

It was just strange to see them all assembled to this relatively early hour of the morning, because, if he could believe Blaise's tales about freezing floors and showers, it must be really awful to get up in the Slytherin dorms in the morning. They made Harry believe in the justice of fate however. It also explained why he had given Blaise the password to the Prefect's bathroom - who had ever heard of a nice Slytherin? Blaise was certainly someone who deserved a great deal of kindness.

Malfoy once raised his head and stared at Harry. Seeing his scarf on Harry, he smirked triumphantly and bowed back down to his plate of scrambled eggs and toast before Pansy or Crabbe and Goyle noticed.

When the Gryffindors were done with breakfast they left the Great Hall in small groups so they wouldn't attract the others' curiosity. Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs also made to leave slowly, thinning out the lines of eating students quite a bit. Harry watched with pride when the members of the DA even left the Great Hall through its different entrances. When only a few were left he, Ron and Hermione left, too.

The walk up to the seventh floor was silent. Nobody wanted to speak, and somehow Harry had the feeling that neither of them knew about what anyway. Considering Hermione's endless thirst for knowledge and Ron's enthusiasm for Quidditch it was truly a feat. But Harry enjoyed the silence and the familiar feeling of intimacy and trust, wondering whether or not the DA would like what he had prepared.

Unsurprisingly, the seventh floor was crowded with members of the DA. The quiet chatter rose to an excited murmuring when the last stragglers arrived. Harry nodded in greeting and marched along the wall three times. He let out a sigh of relief when the door appeared, wooden and solid. Opening the door, Harry beckoned everybody in, ignoring Cho when she walked past him. Michael Corner scowled at him in return but didn't say anything.

Once everybody was in the Room of Requirement, Harry closed and locked the door. A short look into the foe glass showed that nobody was snooping on them. Satisfied, Harry turned around and took the expressions of his flabbergasted friends and acquaintances in.

The room looked like nothing they had seen before. Instead of wide space there were huge walls dividing the room, and a small corridor led right into the darkness that lay behind.

"A labyrinth, Potter? You're sending us in a fucking _labyrinth_?" Smith asked scornfully. "That was your secret project?"

"Ha, I win!" crowed Ron smugly and held his hand open.

Seamus scowled but paid the due five galleons nonetheless. The others, who knew nothing of the little bet, looked on in interest, much to Smith's fury and Harry's delight.

"Exactly, Smith," replied Harry when he was done smirking.

"And why, Potter? Care to explain this newest idea of yours?" said Smith condescendingly.

Harry outwardly remained calm, although he itched to hex the offending boy to pieces. With some difficulties he swallowed the violent urge down. Smith only raised his chin challengingly. Michael Corner joined him in his silent rebellion. Irritated, Harry noticed that Cho looked on with interest, which, in turn, caused Ginny and Hermione to glare at Cho in badly veiled dislike.

Some other students on the other hand dared to go closer to the entrance and peered curiously into the darkness. Blaise, who had come with Luna and Terry Boot, stepped up to Harry and leaned closer.

"Nice, Harry, it really looks interesting. Who do you want to go first?" he asked, manfully suppressing a sneer in Smith's direction.

"You really have to ask?" Harry asked. He noticed that the DA concentrated on him now, eager to hear what this was all about. Harry drew his wand casually and pointed at the entrance. "As you already know, this is a labyrinth. Each of you will go in and try to get through it to the other side of the room." He smirked at Smith. "Of course it isn't that easy. I prepared some surprises for you, so you better have your wand ready. Smith, since you find this so easy, you can go first."

Zacharias Smith looked hatefully at Harry and then at the others but no one objected. After some moments of internal raging he drew his own wand from his sleeve and walked to the entrance of the labyrinth.

"Oh, and by the way, tomorrow afternoon we'll have our class for DADA, so don't forget to be punctual, three o'clock sharp," threw Hermione in, earning herself groans and distraught mumbles, some of them came from Ron, Dean and Neville. With a grin Harry noted that everybody's attention had deserted Smith who, obviously, had hoped to have the heroic first go into unknown territory.

"How big is this?" Smith asked darkly after the commotion had finally died down a little.

"You'll just have to find out," said Harry dismissively. "And now get going. The next will go one minute after you, as will each of you once it's your turn."

With a last, withering glare Smith entered the labyrinth. Soon his footsteps stopped echoing, and then Luna stepped into the corridor, looking thoroughly unconcerned. After her Neville was pushed in by Ginny who went in herself as soon as the minute was up. The rest of the DA started talking excitedly; the prospect of actually having a practical lesson was much more to their tastes than just plain training.

Harry watched in satisfaction as everybody went into the labyrinth. He didn't hide too dangerous creatures and traps in there, they were just strong enough to keep them occupied and on guard.

Ron was the last to go, and then Harry himself entered the labyrinth, lighting his wand as soon as the darkness of the narrow, cold walls surrounded him.

He was truly grateful that Dobby had shown him the room in the year before. It could even provide them with smaller Dark creatures such as Boggarts or Gryndilows. Harry smirked. He just hoped that nobody came up to the centre; there he had hidden something really nasty. His wishes also took care of eventual disabled traps so that nobody would be without target.

Everything was silent around him. Only his own footsteps and occasionally dripping water in some dark corners kept him company. In the pale wand light the scenery slowly changed. Instead of dungeon walls the walls slowly came to resemble mouldy tapestry and dull parquet.

A quiet sound made him whirl around and raise his wand. For a painful while he stood there, listening intently, but as nothing came forth to attack him he turned back and resumed his walk through the mouldy, depressing corridor.

Even though he had created all this it was something else entirely to stand right in there and fight the magical beasts he had brought in here. The shuffling continued after a while and Harry turned around again, flattening himself against the wall. In this part of the labyrinth he had placed the Boggart, and Merlin knew there were dark niches enough for it to hide.

Carefully, he crept forward, dimming his wand light until it was nothing more than a low glimmer.

Harry swallowed with some effort. There it was, a few metres away from him and with its back turned. For the first time Harry realised that Boggarts must have some kind of innate fear-sensor, or he wouldn't see a huge Dementor that wasn't even facing him yet.

Cold sweat broke out on Harry's lip and brow and he clenched his hand tightly around his wand. He knew it wasn't real, and yet he felt the pure fear and dread he had felt the first times he had seen such a creature. The temperature of the corridor dropped several degrees and Harry started to shiver. Slowly and with rustling, torn cloak, the Dementor turned around, opening its disgusting, toothless, gaping mouth.

Ignoring the cold sweat that trickled down his back, Harry silently ignited his wand once more, this time with _Lumos Maximus_. The bright light hit his eyes painfully even through his shielding hand but at least the Dementor retreated a few feet as well. Harry then quickly thought about Sirius and his friends, conjuring his happiest memory, and then called upon his Patronus; something that wasn't easy, now that he was shivering with fear and cold and a really bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he yelled, and the white mist shot out of his wand with determined force. In a matter of seconds the enormous stag appeared and chased the Boggart away, back into the darkest depths of the labyrinth.

Sighing in relief, Harry leaned against the wall behind him. The stag vanished, together with his wand light, leaving Harry in complete darkness. It was still way too cold, and for a second Harry feared that he had wished for a real Dementor, however subconsciously it might have been.

The darkness wasn't comforting anymore either. In previous years, when he'd still been living with the Dursleys, he had felt secure in his small cupboard; it had been a place away from his relatives and school bullies. He had never had any problems with it – until now. He felt choked and threatened, and it scared him that he was scared.

With a quick movement of his hand he lightened his wand once more and illuminated the corridor completely. He didn't allow himself to think much about it; there were students in this labyrinth that needed supervising, and he had to get through the maze just to prove Smith that he was capable of interesting lessons.

Only three turns further into the labyrinth Harry picked up Dean who was tangled in a living wall of Devil's Snare. Despite Harry's drill to hold the hell still when this plant got one of them, Dean had panicked and struggled and was now unable to get out on his own. Harry helped him with giving out calm instructions. Thankfully Dean obeyed readily and spared Harry a bad headache and lots of sorrow.

After that they walked together, picking up Neville and Lavender on their way.

Neville had gotten himself ensnared by a magical mirror and Lavender, who loved horses above everything, had fallen for the call of a Kappa that happily resided in an odd pond in the middle of a medium sized cave. At the near end of the labyrinth the small group finally picked up Terry Boot who apparently had broken an ankle somehow.

Harry blinked when they emerged the gloomy labyrinth at last. The fear and anxiety fell off him as if they'd never been. With a quick look around Harry assessed his charges. Most of them looked pale and scared, some girls even shivered. He smiled wryly at them and put his wand away.

"Well," he said awkwardly, "I see that everybody made it through safely. So, what do you think about today's lesson?"

Smith bared his teeth in an angry sneer. "Oh, it was bloody _wonderful_, Potter!" he spat. "We all had so much _fun_ being mauled in a dungeon by rabid Red Caps and Boggarts and Merlin knows what else! Of course _you_ had no problem at all, I bet; you even got to wear your new, _fancy_ accessories."

Harry felt a sting in his chest when a few others nodded in grim agreement of Smith's rant, but he nodded in acknowledgement nonetheless and started to pace in front of his not-too-happy looking friends and acquaintances. "Somebody else? I want to hear your opinions, and I want you to be honest."

Lavender straightened her hair and raised her chin defiantly. "I too found that lesson horrible," she said firmly. "I thought I would die in that pond!"

Dennis stepped forward, out of the shadow of his brother. "I-I think it was well meant, Harry, but really, it was far too dangerous …" He trailed of weakly, and when Harry just regarded him calmly, he quietly retreated behind other students.

"I think that all that Dark Lord stuff has gotten to your head," said Cho coolly. "Somehow I can't believe that we need all this to stand up to _Him_. Honestly, what are we supposed to do when _he_ stands right in front of us, ready to kill us? Crush his nose to powder?" She laughed a scornful laugh. "Think about it, Harry, what we need are stronger spells, no labyrinths and petty Dark creatures. I hope you'll see reason soon and get back to how things were."

A few boys and girls coughed subtly at that. Harry ignored them altogether and regarded Cho thoughtfully. After a few seconds he looked over the other faces as well, just in time to see how Ron restrained a seething Hermione.

A smile flitted over his face when Luna bumped purposefully into Cho and pushed her out of her way. To Cho it looked like an accident but Harry knew it better.

Luna played with a long lock of her tousled hair. Her wand was currently holding a mass of hair; she had used it like a Chinese chopstick to fix her pale blond mane. Cho seethed behind her back, her face glowing angrily, and the scowl only deepened when she saw that Harry directed his attention solely on Luna now.

"I don't know what you want," said Luna into the silent room. "Harry is training us to fight. What do you think will happen when you face a Death Eater? Do you think they'll give you time to think about a good counter? Do you think they'll have _mercy_ on you?" More than half of the DA had the grace to lower their heads in shame while the other half looked angry, as if wrongly accused of doing something naughty. "Harry is doing the only thing he can: he's preparing us for the worst."

"Yeah," said Ginny fiercely. "He's giving you an idea of what will come, nothing more. You don't know what happened last summer in the Ministry. You don't know how frightened we were, and how lucky we are that we're all alive and well. In situations like these you'll be glad that Harry put you through this." She glared at Smith and Corner. "And you two should stop disrupting the meetings, because we don't have time for your childish bickering."

"I think you all are stupid," said Alicia, stepping forward and next to Ginny. "I loved that lesson! Finally some action! Wasn't that what you had in mind, Smith? Corner?" She blew a strand of her long, dark hair out of her face.

"Yeah," said Angelina. "Fred will be so envious when I tell him what Harry did for us."

Katie turned around to the assembled, stunned students and waved around with her wand as if it was some kind of pointer stick. "Where's your spirit, guys? I thought you weren't just a bunch of cry babies and weaklings! I must say George and Fred would be most disappointed at your lack of enthusiasm. I honestly don't know if I can train with people like you." She glared at Cho and Smith in open dislike.

Quiet mutters of indignation fluttered through the otherwise deadly quiet room.

Hermione stepped forward and faced the DA. "You all have no idea what Voldemort is capable of. Trust Harry when he lets you do something like this. Voldemort is nothing if not unpredictable, and a run through a labyrinth prepares you very well for the unknown since you'll never know what's coming around the next corner." Her grim and angry expression softened a bit. "Do your homework, alright? We all don't want anybody hurt, and I for my part will trust all of Harry's decisions because he stood up to Voldemort more than once and is still alive."

"Hear, hear," said Seamus uncharacteristically seriously. His right arm was wound around Blaise's waist and the two looked to be very much in love.

The sight let Harry shiver slightly, and he wondered if he would ever be that lucky, holding the one he loved like that, or, in case he really chose a man someday, be held like this. The image of a green meadow and an old oak floated by, just to disappear in the depths of his mind just as quickly. Instead, Harry faced the hard truth.

His DA was on the brink of mutiny and he needed to fix the problem quickly. Hermione's, Alicia's and Ginny's help was appreciated but everybody knew that they were three of his closest friends and likely to support him anyway; what he needed was either a neutral opinion, or he was forced to get his will accepted.

Either way he knew he had to continue this kind of training or else the younger ones and those who hadn't been at the Ministry of Magic that day wouldn't ever know what it was like to fight against a real enemy.

"I want you to go back into the labyrinth once more," he said into the thick silence. "I appreciate your concern and your opinion, but you have to put up with me if you want to fight." Harry started pacing once more, looking at the wall in concentration. "You can found your own group, of course; I won't keep you from leaving the DA. Just keep in mind that we're stronger as a group, a team. I want us to get along and I want us to be prepared. I don't want more victims like Cedric." Harry directed his flaming glare at his friends. A few actually retreated from its intensity. "If you decide to stay I assume you want to be trained as best as I can train you. I also appreciate your input, you know that. What we don't need is mutiny and talks like this. We don't have time for that. Now, everybody who wants to stay please come over to me. The others can leave right away; I won't deal with them anymore."

Ron, Hermione, Dean, Seamus, Ginny, Neville and Blaise immediately sidled up with Harry. Luna, Angelina, Alicia, Katie and Lee followed right after them, and then Hannah and Ernie, Terry, Dennis and Colin stepped up to Harry. Anthony, Padma, Parvati and Lavender hesitated just for a moment before they, too, came up to Harry's side.

The others needed a bit longer to decide; especially the pampered and the younger ones were insecure about the whole thing, but then, one by one, they made up their mind and walked over to Harry, demonstrating their will to learn and train and their trust in Harry. After a few minutes only Cho, Smith and Corner were left; nobody else wanted to leave. Cho looked undecided, after all she had suggested that Harry got back to their old lessons.

Harry watched in mild satisfaction as Smith gritted his teeth. Michael looked at Cho as if she could give the answer to his question.

"Well?" said Harry, getting impatient. "Are you staying or are you going? Decide quickly if you don't mind, we have a lesson to finish."

Cho looked at Corner and then at Harry again, and finally, after one last moment of hesitation, walked over to the group. Corner sighed audibly and followed her slowly. To Harry it looked as if he was just doing it to please her, not because he had decided for himself. Smith stood there, seething at his friend's betrayal. It took seemingly forever until he moved toward the group, glaring hatefully at Harry.

"Alright, Potter, have it your way. But if this isn't helping me then there'll be hell to pay!" he said angrily.

"It will help," replied Harry smoothly. "But if you should decide to interrupt the meetings again I'll kick you out without a second thought."

For a minute the room was shrouded in oppressive silence. Nobody wanted to speak and everybody was uncomfortable. When Harry finally clapped his hands it resounded like a whip crack and heads snapped up violently.

"I believe I said that we'll pass the labyrinth once more today," said Harry when everybody stared at him. "Get going before I make you."

Everybody scrambled to obey the order, and soon one student after the other was swallowed by the darkness of the labyrinth.

Two hours later, Harry, Hermione and Ron were exhausted but satisfied. The lesson had proved helpful at last. Dean didn't get caught in the Devil's Snare again and Terry didn't break his ankle; in fact nobody hade made their mistake twice. Of course a healthy amount of DA members had made _other_ mistakes but the point was that everybody learned from their mistakes and made some kind of progress.

"You know, I'm really proud of you," said Hermione when they were close to the portrait of the Fat Lady. "It was about time that you told them who's in charge of the group. I can't believe that Smith stooped so low and actually tried to sabotage your classes."

Harry shrugged. "Well, it is how it is. I would rather do without him, too, but that would be unfair, and I'm really not like him."

"Too true, mate, too true," said Ron and yawned. "Oh my, it's almost lunchtime, and I'm starving."

"I'll just take a quick shower," said Harry and laughed. "I won't get between you and your stomach."

"Yes, never fear, Ron," said Hermione and smirked. "After all, you're still growing–"

"-yeah, until you reach the highest points of the arches in the corridors," added Harry gleefully.

Ron pouted. "It's not my fault that I'm so tall. Bill is tall, too, Harry, and I didn't see you complain when he slipped you the tongue the other day."

Harry blushed violently and quickly averted his gaze. "That's unfair, and you know it," he mumbled. "As if I would jump you the second I get the chance. Ewww, no."

"That would be rather unfortunate for both of your reputations," said Hermione with a sneer. "Besides, didn't you say you prefer blondes anyway, Harry?"

"Will you just shut up?" cried Harry in exasperation. "Honestly, you behave like twelve year olds!"

Ron and Hermione both laughed at his flushed face.

"You've never been _this_ red when we talked about Cho," teased Ron good-naturedly. "Does that mean something?"

"Of course not," replied Harry tightly, trying to fight down the rather uncomfortable flush that decided to burn his face. In his huffiness he started to fumble with the scarf, marvelling at its softness. Thankfully they had just arrived at the entrance to their common room, stopping Ron and Hermione from saying anything more embarrassing.

"We'll see," said Hermione dismissively, all the while smiling smugly. Harry found himself greatly disturbed by that expression on her face. "United powers!"

The portrait swung open and they climbed through the hole into the common room without talking to the Fat Lady. The other Gryffindor members of the DA were already there and acknowledged Harry, Ron and Hermione with secret winks and smiles. Hermione shooed them into their dormitory so they could get washed up and get fresh clothes.

Ron was already complaining loudly about the lack of food in his rumbling stomach so Harry hurried to get his sweaty clothes off, grab his shower things and get in the showers for a good, quick wash.

Only ten minutes later they were already out of the common room and on their way to the Great Hall. Harry thought that Hermione really had to be one of the most efficient girls in the world for she didn't take one minute longer than he and Ron, and they really had hurried.

_And maybe_, he mused idly, _she had just discovered a showering spell that took care of her problem._

He shuddered. He was most definitely not able to do without his showers, it was too nice a feeling to feel the grime get off, not to mention the soothing heat of the water or the pleasant smells of his shower gels.

Anyway, his stomach had decided to join Ron's, and together they rumbled heartily in anticipation.

"Honestly, I don't know where you're putting all that food," said Hermione when Ron's stomach grumbled again, this time even louder than usual. "You ate like a pig at breakfast."

"I resent that," replied Ron stubbornly, flushing despite his attempt to appear manly and righteous.

Harry just sighed and blocked their bickering out. It was always the same, really, and there were other things that needed to be thought over. He strode into the Great Hall, Ron and Hermione trailing behind and arguing heatedly.

There weren't many Gryffindors eating there yet, so Harry, Ron and Hermione chose their seats at the middle of the table and helped themselves to mashed potatoes, vegetables and fried swordfish.

"Today's Saturday, right?" said Hermione after a few minutes of silence.

"Well, duh, 'Mione," said Ron and rolled his eyes. "Of course it is Saturday! You got the bloody Saturday Prophet, didn't you? And the ruddy owl nearly hit a spoon in Dennis' eye when it landed on the table, too."

Hermione shook her head slightly. "You have a really overactive imagination, Ron. No, what I meant was, will Lucius Malfoy come to Hogwarts again, like all the other weekends before?"

"Ha, I sure hope it was a Yule thing," said Ron angrily. "The git has been stalking through the school long enough now. I don't want to know what he has up his sleeve."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other.

Harry hoped it was _not_ a Yule thing, as Ron had called it, and he was sure that Hermione thought the same. However, Harry didn't feel up to breaking the news to Ron right now; first of all he really didn't like food in his hair, and Ron would undoubtedly spew his mouthful if he heard about Harry's and Hermione's ideas, and then he wasn't keen on argueing with his best friend over nothing.

No, Ron would have to bear it until he either figured it out for himself or Harry had a free minute to enlighten him.

Harry sighed fondly. Ron always overreacted at first, but after five and a half years of friendship Harry had learned to live with the impulsive side of Ron and even had come to find it amusing.

"And what do we do with our afternoon?" said Ron when nobody said anything else.

"Well, I, for one, have detention with Snape later tonight," said Hermione and pursed her lips.

"And I think I'll sneak the Occlumency books back into the library," said Harry. "I've got copies of them for myself from Snuffles, Moony and others of the bunch so I don't need them anymore."

"Are you going to do it tonight or right after lunch?" Hermione asked. "Because Madam Pince has very sharp eyes and ears when it comes to her books. You might want to wait until she's gone for the night."

"I thought I could send Dobby," replied Harry slowly, "but I guess with all that dust around the place House Elves aren't exactly welcome there." He shrugged. "It's no big deal, I'll bring them tonight, then. I have patrolling shift anyway."

"And who's going to take over later?" Hermione asked with mild interest. "Because I know that Snape might not give me a pass for my way back."

"Ernie and Hannah have duty tonight," said Harry. "Don't worry, I'll tell them to look the other way when you come from detention. It would be just like Snape to deny you, even though Dumbledore told you both to have these 'sessions'."

"Thanks. I really can do without his cattiness." She pushed her hair over her shoulders and tied it with a ribbon. "Really, it's not them that has me worrying but Filch. _He_ doesn't much care for Dumbledore's orders either, and it is such a bother to sort these things out."

"Too true," said Ron angrily, spearing his fish violently. "He's had unfairer reasons to dock points from us."

"Oh, I'll wear him out alright," replied Hermione haughtily. "He can't get too mean if he knows what's good for him. I know how quickly Dumbledore would be on his doorstep, Dumbledore told me so himself." She patted Ron on the back. "So you've got nothing to worry about."

"I just don't get how you can be so calm about all of this!" exclaimed Ron in a heated rush.

Harry left Hermione and Ron to their usual round of bickering to get back to his thoughts about Lucius Malfoy's visits. The man had much more to tell, of that he was sure. The question was just, what could he do to extract some more information from him? Malfoy was too clever to just accidentally spill his beans, so why was he doing it? For mere baiting the hints were too valuable, yet the blonde was never saying anything outright.

Worrying his lower lip with his teeth, Harry played with his food, completely ignoring the arrival of Parvati, Lavender, Colin, Dennis and Dean. Only when Seamus jarred him with his elbow he was startled out of his musings.

"What's up with him?" said Parvati, who was sitting to his right, curiously. "He stares into thin air as if we weren't here."

Harry inwardly rolled his eyes. The girl was impossible sometimes.

Reluctantly he took a bite of his fish and chewed mechanically. His thoughts quickly returned to the topic at hand: how could he get more information from Malfoy without seeming too obvious about it?

He wasn't keen on stalking the man, and neither did he feel any desire to come near him more often than he absolutely had to. Lucius Malfoy was dangerous, Harry already knew that, but now he seemed to have his own agenda as well, making it even harder to deal with him. And apparently the Malfoy scion was involved in his father's plans, too – without Narcissa Malfoy knowing any of it.

To Harry this development was most disconcerting. He felt reminded of the old saying about old saying of two hands, of which one did not know what the other was doing. Whether this was unintentional or not Harry didn't know, but he sure as hell felt more uneasy about the whole thing with each passing day. Adding Voldemort's more than pissy mood from the night before, Harry felt truly at a loss with the situation.

Ron got Harry out of his musings, reminding him just how hungry he had been after the meeting. Harry quickly emptied his plate with renewed vigour and then left the Great Hall together with Ron and Hermione.

True to her word Hermione only retrieved her things from the girls' dorm before she made a beeline to the library, leaving Harry and Ron on their own.

"You should do your homework, too," pointed Harry out when Ron's moping became unbearable. "I know I have some left."

"You're no fun," said Ron morosely.

"Do you think I _like_ it?" replied Harry and rolled his eyes. "I would go flying if the weather wasn't so shitty but you know that Hooch and McGonagall would kill us if we did that."

"Let's forget about homework," said Ron heatedly. "Why don't we go back to the Room of Requirement and train some more? I was just getting the hang of the wandless stuff."

Harry was quick to decide, after all he knew what he'd rather do any day. "Let's go then," he said enthusiastically.

Ron grinned victoriously and streaked for the portrait hole, completely ignoring Colin and Dennis who were just about to enter. Harry hurried after him, itching with desire to use magic, and a lot of it. During the previous lesson he didn't have the chance to really train curses and spells, given that he'd helped his DA through the labyrinth.

The few students that crossed them on their way to the seventh floor didn't pay them any mind and so Harry and Ron got there without being seen.

Harry quickly paced along the well-known wall and wished for their training room. As soon as the door appeared Ron yanked it open and bounded inside, slamming and locking it when Harry had entered as well. This time the labyrinth wasn't there as they didn't need it.

"Okay, how do we start?" Ron asked enthusiastically, whipping his wand out.

"Voiceless spells," replied Harry, taking off his cloak. "That's always a good start." He drew his wand as well. "Just do what I do. _Lumos_!" The tip of his wand ignited and spread a bright light all over the room. Harry then ended the charm and motioned Ron to do it as well, just without saying the spell.

Ron managed five spells, then they reversed the roles. Harry was very proud of his friend. Ron worked hard for the DA and never gave up when something didn't work right away, unlike his actual school work that simply didn't interest him as much as it should.

"_Accio_!" dictated Ron and summoned a teddy bear from a shelf. Harry obediently summoned a matching teddy bear, feeling pure joy when it flew straight into his hand.

"_Alohomora_!" said Ron and pointed at a cabinet that was filled with sweets. The door sprang open with a soft clicking sound. Ron closed it again and let Harry do it.

Harry opened it without any problems at all and summoned a Chocolate Frog. Ron tried to steal it from him with a soundless summoning charm of his own, but Harry beat him to it, disarming Ron smartly with a mute _Expelliarmus_.

"That was unfair, mate!" protested Ron, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Let's fight this out, now!"

"As you wish," replied Harry, stuffing the squirming frog into his mouth. "But without talking. The one who's saying a spell out loud first loses."

"Alright," Ron gave back challengingly.

Both got into official duelling stance and bowed to each other. Ron started first, trying to disarm Harry with the Expelliarmus Spell. Harry blocked easily, having expected this move. He sent the Tickling Curse back, which was blocked just as easily by Ron. Most of the offensive spells they could do without using their voices could be blocked with _Protego_ anyway.

They fought back and forth for a while. Only the soft, whistling sound of working magic could be heard, and the shuffling of the boys' feet and clothes. Harry sent a stumbling curse at Ron's legs. Ron got hit and tripped over his own feet, cursing loudly. But without losing precious time he shot the Jelly Legs Jinx back and managed to strike Harry's wand arm. Now cursing himself, Harry quickly changed the wand from his right to his left hand and sent a vicious Stupefy Hex in Ron's direction. Right after that he lifted the curse from himself and switched the wand back into his right hand. Ron deftly rolled away and jumped back up at his feet. Harry's curse had left a black smoke smudge on the stone floor.

For a minute they just stared at each other, each breathing hard and trying to regain some control over their exhausted bodies.

"Wow," said Ron then, "this is amazing!"

Harry broke into a huge smile and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Yeah, it is," he agreed. "And you're really good, too."

Ron blushed and looked at his wand for a second. "Thanks, mate. It's all your doing, you know … and I know that we'll get out of this alive. Your training is doing wonders, Harry. Two years ago I thought I'd never be able to do magic like that, like an adult." He looked seriously at Harry. "And now look at us. We're almost as good as a fully trained wizard, maybe even better than the average. If we're lucky You-Know-Who and his lackeys will underestimate us and we can strike."

"We are getting better than the average," confirmed Harry. "Who would believe that we can already do silent magic? Just think about the possibilities …"

Ron got a dreamy expression on his face. "Yeah, for example trip the ferret without him noticing … or tickling Crabbe and Goyle for a bit during Potions …"

Harry swallowed back a reprimand and instead thought that he was just lucky that Ron wasn't in his Potions class anymore. He knew, should Snape find out that Ron cursed Crabbe or Goyle, be it silent or no, then there would be hell to pay for his best friend. On the other hand it would of course be hilarious should it actually work.

"Enough of that," he said finally, prodding Ron with his wand. "You wanted to train wandless magic, so, put your wand away." Ron handed Harry his wand and Harry put both on a shelf, out of their reach. "And now try to summon the apple from the table over there."

Ron nodded enthusiastically and immediately got to work. They took turns in trying to summon their wands and other objects; Harry even went so far and as to try to levitate a pillow, remembering their first year and the encounter with that troll. It didn't work right away but Harry was still very satisfied with Ron and himself when they broke off their little session in the evening.

Quietly they made their way down to their common room, oddly high on excitement although they were exhausted to their bones. Hermione wasn't in Gryffindor Tower so Harry and Ron freshened themselves up and left for dinner without waiting for her to come with them.

For once Harry was really grateful for Malfoy's scarf. Wind was howling in the dimly lit hallways and corridors, and the cold was biting sharply on his nose and ears. He honestly didn't want to know how cold it had to be outside right now to give them so much trouble in the castle.

Shivering, Harry and Ron pushed into the Great Hall with a lot of other students. It was much warmer once they were through the large door and everybody practically bounded in delight to their respective house tables. Food smelled deliciously in the still slightly chilly air, and the promise of hot milk, chocolate or tea made several children squeal happily.

The boys sat down and immediately put food on their plates and started to eat enthusiastically.

Hermione came in a few minutes later. She looked rather smug but refused to tell Harry when he asked her about it. Instead she put a book in front of her, effectively shutting herself off from everybody else.

Having nothing better to do, Harry's eyes again strayed to the Slytherin table. Malfoy sat there and scowled at Crabbe and Goyle who were stuffing themselves with incredible speed.

But not for the first time Malfoy looked up sharply as soon as Harry had set his eyes on him. He _must_ have some kind of Harry-detector, Harry mused as Malfoy scowled at him. The blonde was still angry at him for hexing him after their detention but Harry was not the least bit sorry about that. If the git had just kept his trap shut, but no …

He felt a wave of morbid affection flow through him, so he smiled angelically at Malfoy who was now outright snarling. Next to him Pansy broke into a fit and yelled insults over to him. Blaise to Malfoy's left grinned back and winked happily.

After dinner Harry decided that he needed a bit of time for himself. He grabbed his book about Legilimency and reread the last chapter once more. Because of his headache yesterday he hadn't read further and reckoned that now was a good time as any. His patrolling shift wouldn't start for another hour so he lounged on a sofa in the common room, together with Ron who read through their curriculum for the DA. Both the book and the notes were charmed to look like something really uninteresting. Harry had chosen _A Thousand Herbs and Fungi_ as cover and Ron had disguised his stuff to look like a year old copy of Quidditch Today.

Time for his patrolling duty came much too soon for Harry's tastes. Sighing, he put the book back into his trunk and clasped his cloak over his shoulders. The castle was icy in the evening and he didn't want to take any chances. Malfoy's scarf would protect him from the cold as well. He slipped his wand into his shirtsleeve and left the common room. Hermione apparently had already gone to Snape for detention as she wasn't there to see him off.

It was just after curfew and nobody was out yet. Harry had the borrowed books and his map with him, occasionally checking in an unused classroom if somebody was slinking through the castle. But everything was quiet and boring, even the dot that represented Draco Malfoy kept still in the Slytherin common room, much to Harry's disappointment.

At one point he snuck into the library, went into the Restricted Section and used the curious stork-legged table to find the shelves he had taken the books from. After not even fifteen minutes he was done and left the library as quietly as a shadow, without leaving any traces of ever being there.

After roaming the empty and cold and dreary castle for another hour alone Harry was glad that he finally could pass the duty on to Hannah and Ernie.

_Gods_, he thought on his way back to Gryffindor Tower, _this has to be the most boring evening I've ever had, including the study session with 'Mione for Binns' test last month. _

His watch told him that it was five minutes past eleven. Harry was tired and decided to go to bed as soon as he reached the common room. When he entered through the portrait hole he even ignored Colin and Dennis who had waited up for him and promptly took some pictures. The flashes practically burned Harry's eyes, so Ron scolded them before he chased them off.

"Why do you let them treat you like this?" Ron asked in an annoyed voice. "I mean, here you go, blind as a bat again." He had to steady Harry to keep him from stumbling.

"Just get me up to the dorm," grunted Harry irritably. "I'll deal with them tomorrow, alright?"

Ron grumbled but helped Harry nonetheless. Harry knew that he was too nice sometimes, especially to people who trampled on his nerves and tested his temper but right now he was too tired and put out to do something about it. At least Ron decided to go to bed as well instead of mangling Colin and Dennis like as they deserved.

As fast as he could he put all of his offending memories into his Pensieve and then tried to clear his mind. Damn, but he was upset, and the worst of it all was that he didn't even know why. Not exactly. There still were a lot of things on his mind, even though he had just put the brunt of it into the Pensieve.

Sighing and grumbling, he burrowed himself into his comforters and the pillow and shut his eyes. Sleep came almost instantly, as if having waited for Harry to finally relax. And with the calm and dark no dreams of Voldemort came forth this night.

-------

The whole Sunday was awfully quiet, aside from their study session in the Room of Requirement. Hermione, looking tired but content, held the lesson and taught the DA everything about stunning spells and each and every little side spell and related charm. _Petrificus Totalus_ was one of them as Neville well knew, and the students listened with rapt attention. Blaise snorted with laughter when Hermione explained the Grapara Charm, the charm Harry had clamped Malfoy's hands with.

But other than that Harry and Ron didn't do much. Hermione was poring over her essays and books, Ron was playing Exploding Snap with Dean and Ginny and Harry tried to concentrate on his own homework for Transfigurations. Sometimes he looked out of the windows and saw nothing but snow, snow and more snow.

-----------

Monday was much the same. Harry suffered with his friends through a double period of Charms, then Herbology, DADA and Care of Magical Creatures. The Apparating lesson was cancelled because of the weather. Harry was glad, Blackadder was enough for one day, anyway. So he, Ron and Hermione had a nice, long tea, drank hot chocolate and talked quietly about the next meeting of the DA. Harry had to go to the dungeons again to supervise Crabbe's and Goyle's detention and didn't look forward to it.

Still, it was better than sitting around and boring himself to death, he reckoned.

At dinner, when he caught Blaise's eye, he knew that he wouldn't be alone tonight. Malfoy glanced suspiciously at Blaise, then glared at Harry and then smirked unpleasantly. Harry had the feeling that Malfoy wanted to renew their feud at all costs, if only to repay Harry for the humiliation he had suffered.

Grinning to himself, he made a show of shaking his head miserably, giving Malfoy something to gloat over. And later Harry would pounce and give Malfoy some of his own …

And really, when Harry stepped up to Snape's office Malfoy and Blaise were already there, keeping Crabbe and Goyle in check. With a glance at Malfoy Harry tugged at the scarf and rearranged it around his neck. He was deliberately clumsy, he knew that Malfoy would be put out before he had even gone through with his little ploy.

"Honestly, Potter, don't rip on a fine scarf like this, will you?" said Malfoy, sneering.

"Well, I'm not used to wear scarves like this," replied Harry easily.

"Maybe someone should help you then, Potter," purred Blaise. He winked at Harry and then stepped up to him, expertly starting to redo the scarf.

"What _is_ it with you, Blaise?" Malfoy asked irritably. "You're behaving like some House Elf. Are you _fancying_ Potter?"

Blaise smiled lazily at Malfoy. "Who knows? Those Gryffindors do have a certain appeal … being fiery and protective and _so_ strong …" He leaned closer to Harry and delicately sniffed at his neck. "Oh, and don't they smell nice, Draco?"

Malfoy blushed a faint pink. "Don't be disgusting. Come on, get away from him. Merlin knows what germs you're catching."

Blaise wound his arms around Harry and urged him to do the same to him. "But I like it here. I think I'll keep him."

Harry almost laughed at that. Malfoy's face was simply priceless and now he wished that Colin or Dennis were here to take a picture of that. Although, Harry had to admit, Seamus wouldn't be too happy if somebody told him that he had flirted with Blaise. But, he decided, since Blaise was playing along so nicely he might as well use the advantage to its fullest.

Squeezing him to his body, he smirked at Blaise. "Are you sure you're doing the keeping, little snake? Who's the snake charmer here?"

Malfoy made a faintly disgusted noise in the back of his throat, but nobody paid him any mind. Harry was too engrossed in his little ploy to stop now. Blaise just rubbed his face on Harry's and practically purred in delight.

"Potter, stop it, it's preposterous," demanded Malfoy angrily when Blaise pressed even tighter against Harry and hummed happily.

"Ah, but maybe I have enough for you, too, Malfoy," purred Harry seductively. Blaise snickered into his neck and shook with suppressed laughter. "I bet I can tame a dragon like you." He grinned saucily and waggled his eyebrows. "There's really no reason to be jealous."

"Oh-you-that's just so-_ewww_," sputtered Malfoy, stepping back and balling his hands to fists.

Harry grabbed Blaise tighter and kissed his temple provocatively. "Don't you want to try it with me, Malfoy?" he asked, purring lowly, almost silkily.

Now Malfoy blushed red hot and without saying a word he fled with long steps from the scene. Harry's and Blaise's laughter followed him down the corridor. Even Crabbe and Goyle grunted in amusement.

"That was funny," giggled Blaise. He then lowered his voice to a very quiet whisper. "Wait until I tell my lovely lion about it!"

Harry sighed. "Will it be okay? I don't want to upset him, you know."

"It's alright," said Blaise reassuringly. They didn't say Seamus' name in case Crabbe and Goyle really paid attention, but the Slytherin seemed to mean what he said. "In fact, I believe he'll laugh himself silly about the whole thing."

Huffing and panting Hermione came up to them, taking some deep breaths. "Oh my god," she wheezed, "I almost forgot to go to detention! I was so engrossed in _A Thousand Herbs and Fungi_ that I simply lost track of time!" She wiped some hair out of her face and tried to straighten her appearance.

Just then Snape opened the door to his office and beckoned them in. If he was surprised about Blaise's appearance he hid it well. He doled out Crabbe and Goyle's detention himself and left Harry and Blaise to their books before he vanished with Hermione in the other room. Harry thought it a pity that he wasn't the one to give out the punishment tonight, he had just come up with something really mean.

"Oi, Potter," grunted Crabbe after half an hour of slow scrawling, "do you really fancy Zabini?"

Blaise rolled with his eyes and pushed a strand of his long hair behind his ear. Still, he said nothing and left it to Harry. It was him who Crabbe and Goyle and their parents wanted to see dead, after all.

"Fancying, no," said Harry in a bored voice. "Just wanted to rile up Malfoy. Go back to your lines."

"But you seemed to like it," insisted Goyle, lowering his quill as well. His whole hand was ink-smeared, and so was his parchment.

Harry sighed. "I don't know what it is to you. Just shut up and get back to work. Snape will check on you in an hour."

Crabbe and Goyle shrugged and continued to stare menacingly at Harry. From the corner of his eye Harry could see how Blaise drew his wand, holding it next to his leg.

"Maybe you like Draco instead of Zabini," said Goyle slowly, smirking unpleasantly. "He's beautiful, isn't he, Potter?"

Harry really didn't like the direction in which this conversation was going. Somehow it felt more than wrong to hear Crabbe and Goyle say such things, especially about a boy, and Malfoy at that.

"Never thought about it," replied Harry after a few seconds. "He's too snotty for my taste."

Goyle jabbed Crabbe with his elbow, and both snickered impishly. Fortunately they left it at that and didn't annoy Harry with further questions. With a quiet sigh Blaise slipped his wand back into his sleeve. He still looked alert, though, maybe even more so than before. Harry threw him a worried glance and decided to talk about it when the opportunity came. For now he settled on being suspicious and wary.

At midnight sharp Snape erupted from his room and barked at Crabbe and Goyle to present their lines. Snape just let his eyes fly over them before he threw the scrolls aside.

"Crabbe, Goyle," he hissed poisonously, "I don't know what's gotten into you to abandon your educational career like this, but let me tell you one thing: if you don't stop dallying around you'll have to suffer the consequences. Don't think I'll go easy on you because of your parentage." Snape looked more than livid, he was obviously positively itching to strangle some sense into Crabbe and Goyle.

Crabbe smiled sweetly, a very disturbing look on his pudgy face. "Of course, Professor. We'll do better next time."

Harry noted the slight twitch of Snape's eyebrow and shrunk back a bit.

Hermione, who had just emerged from the room she had been sharing with Snape, slipped back almost immediately, a deep frown on her face. Then Goyle said something, Harry didn't quite catch what, and suddenly everything went haywire. Glasses and vials in the countless shelves started to rattle violently, some cauldrons fell off their place on a counter and chairs scraped loudly over the floor when they flew angrily against a wall.

"_Out_, you two oafs," ground Snape out. The door of the office flew open and crashed against the wall. Crabbe and Goyle strutted out with an incredible air of haughtiness.

Speechless, Hermione first flicked her wand a few times, mumbling several charms to clean up the mess, and then went over to the scrolls and looked at them. When she let out a small gasp, Harry stepped up to her and peered over her shoulder. A loud slam made both him and Hermione jump in shock.

"Have a good look, Potter," snarled Snape in his deathly voice, "because this is what will eventually cause _a lot_ of mayhem."

Harry looked back at the parchment. In unruly, smudged script there stood: _Potter fancies Draco Malfoy_. It was smeared all across the paper, and even a crude painting of him and Malfoy in a lip-lock was under it. In the farthest edge was a moving image of him on a leash and Malfoy gloating. And on Crabbe's scroll he found several stick figures that obviously represented him, mangled and bleeding. Beneath those there was a dreary painting of a graveyard with a big headstone. It had his wrongly spelled name on it.

Appalled, Harry crumbled them. It was one thing to hear it, quite another to see Crabbe and Goyle's intentions like this.

"How so, Professor?" Hermione asked, still pale. "They won't really run to Voldemort and propose setting Malfoy on Harry, will they? And they're too stupid to kill him."

"Don't say his name," hissed Snape, obviously teetering on the edge of his patience.

"What a stupid idea," snorted Harry in disdain, completely ignoring Snape's forbidding scowl and his own fear. He crumbled the parchment further in his fist and threw it into the waist bin. "As if I would fall for it." He snorted bitterly. "And as if Malfoy would play along with them."

Snape rubbed his temples. "Be it as it may, those two are out for trouble. I expect you to behave accordingly. Now get out, you insufferable pests. My night is ruined as it is."

Hermione gnawed on her lower lip. "Are you sure you're okay, Professor? Can I do something for you?"

Collecting his last scrap of patience, Snape ground out a venomous, "No." and sent them off, slamming the door after them. Harry and Hermione just looked at each other in bewilderment and walked back to Gryffindor Tower. For this they didn't need words, it was just too weird.

Tired after such a bothersome evening with nothing but a dry book and such a blatant threat Harry slumped into his bed and started to remove his most compromising memories from his head. He carefully put them into the Pensieve and decided to put his strange vision from DADA in it, too, just in case.

He smiled wryly. He really should Ground and Centre sometime tomorrow, Blackadder expected a report from them on Thursday at the latest. Part of him liked to think that he would relive the moments on the green meadow, another part rather wanted him to see nothing at all and quickly forget the strange scene altogether.

Tired and exhausted, Harry only did the most common exercises for Occlumency before he allowed himself to nod off. The rules for Grounding and Centring spun around in his mind and he went through them, redoing the whole process mentally. It gave him a peace that he hadn't expected. Before his inner eye the circle around his bed glowed like fire and he felt secure enough to let the control slip.

----------

This strange game he was playing in his mind led to even stranger dreams but unfortunately, when the next morning arrived, Harry couldn't remember any of it. But he was sure it had been a good dream because he felt relaxed and strangely content.

There was no time, however, to sneak a peek into his Dream catcher. In fact, Harry was quite late and had to hurry to take a shower and get dressed before he stumbled down the stairs to the common room. Alicia and Lee, who had been sitting on the couch in front of the fireplace told him that Ron and Hermione were already on their way to the Great Hall, so Harry just cursed under his breath and sped after them.

"Harry!" cried Hermione once he had arrived at the Gryffindor table. "Look at this! She finally answered!" She waved a letter around and Harry noticed a ruffled looking owl on the table who was just about to steal some bacon from a plate.

"Who answered?" he asked, confused. His anger at her and Ron for not waking him disappeared slowly.

"Rita Skeeter!" said Hermione. She was a bit put out at his lack of response but decided to forego it for once. Waving the letter in front of Harry's face, she plopped down on the bench and shooed the owl away. With an indignant hoot it took off and disappeared through the round owl window of the Great Hall.

"Really! I didn't think she would make up her mind so quickly," said Harry, now curious. Ginny handed him a mug of coffee and he smiled gratefully at her.

"Let's hope it's a good answer," said Ron from across the table. He was sitting next to Parvati and Lavender and didn't seem too happy about that. "At least we have something to scheme about in History."

Hermione ripped the envelope open and took the letter, unfolding it impatiently. "Shall I read out loud?" she asked once she had read quickly over the few sentences. She undoubtedly had the attention of the older Gryffindors. Some even scrambled to get closer and hear what she said.

Harry and the others groaned and urged her to read it already. Hermione smirked, cleared her throat and stood straight.

"Ms Granger, I'm shocked about your letter and the insinuation you made about a dirty, smutty, 'rating-seeking' story concerning our government and Minister Fudge in particular. As you know I'm a hard-working witch and can't be bothered with schoolgirl-nonsense." Here not only Hermione but seemingly everybody else snorted. "However, since I got my job back with your help I'll do you a favour and make time to meet up with you. Owl me the date of your next Hogsmeade weekend and I will meet you at the Three Broomsticks. This had better be good. Rita Skeeter."

Hermione looked extraordinarily smug when she finished reading the letter. "This is a wonderful start, dear friends," she said happily. "I can't wait to see that beetle-woman again."

Harry could only agree. He raised his mug in salute. "To Rita Skeeter, our unsuspecting ally!"

"Hear, hear!" crowed his friends and raised their goblets, cups and mugs as well.

They drank, ignoring the curious and suspicious looks from the other houses. The members of the DA would learn about this soon enough and the rest would just go unsatisfied. They also ignored the inquiring looks of several teachers who were clearly suspicious of their doings.

Hermione borrowed Pig from Ron to send her answer to Rita Skeeter. Hedwig would have been too obvious, and Harry had a feeling that Hermione wanted to annoy the reporter even more with the little owl. Ron certainly was happy to be of service, and so Harry, Hermione and Ron discussed first steps for meeting Rita Skeeter and making their proposal before the sixth years trudged on to History of Magic.

"What if she doesn't do it?" Ron asked when they were standing outside the classroom and waiting for Binns to let them in. An armour rattled next to him and he cuffed it expertly to shut it up.

"Quiet," hissed Hermione. She pointed at the portraits along the wall and raised her eyebrows meaningfully. "Inside, okay?" Several portraits gave her dirty looks. It only confirmed their suspicions about the portraits being spies for Dumbledore. It would certainly explain why he knew almost everything that was going on.

Ron shrugged. Harry thought that it didn't really matter, Dumbledore would be on their side anyway. Some of the students who were milling around them, however, could be a problem, especially when these students were Slytherins. The younger years had a talent to sneak up on someone and eavesdrop until it was too late, and Harry couldn't have that. He had started to check his surroundings in his earlier years and wasn't shy to use privacy spells if he deemed it necessary. Sighing, he realised that they couldn't even have a talk in peace without a silencing charm these days.

Suddenly the door opened and the class filed in, quickly taking their seats. Ron, Harry and Hermione squeezed at one table to discuss further about their business with Rita Skeeter. It was not as if Binns would notice. The ghost would just drone on about some thing or another without caring for his students at all. Ron seemed relieved that Hermione decided to ignore the teacher for once.

"Of course she'll bitch at first," whispered Hermione when Binns had started on the thirty-fifth goblin revolution of Norwich. "After all we're asking her to do something first before we show our cards."

Ron nodded. Every time their discussion became only slightly tactical he was up and about and eager to help. He was, after all, the strategic genius of their group.

"Yeah, she should do something for the information we're going to give her," he said. He scribbled his name on the bench and looked at it with satisfaction. "But how much will we tell her?"

Harry grinned. "Enough to get Fudge in trouble."

"Exactly, plus we will tell her everything we know about Fudge probably dancing in the same league as Voldemort." Hermione glared disapprovingly at Ron and let the name vanish with a small flick of her wand.

"'Mione!" whimpered Ron accusingly. "Don't say his fucking _name_!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a baby, Ronald. Look, it's not that hard: Vol-de-mort!"

"Aaagh!" Ron scrambled away from her and covered his ears with his hands.

"Vol-de-mort?" said Harry, smirking. "Sounds stupid."

Hermione's eyes glazed over. "It sounds like French, if you ask me. Vol de mort. Flight of death, or something similar."

"Why not Fly of Death? Bzzzz," joked Harry and pulled a gross face. Hermione broke out in peals of laughter and gasped for air. Ron looked at them as if they'd gone crazy.

"Ms Granger, what, pray tell, is so funny about the attempt of King Ghorck to put the castle of Roderick the Rude under siege?" Binns asked in his high, brittle and overall annoying voice. He slowly glided up to their table and looked at them accusingly with his silver eyes.

Hermione hiccoughed and wiped her eyes, slowly regaining her wits. "K-king Ghorck only besieged the southern side of the castle, leaving the other sides open for traffic," she managed to say before she was already giggling and laughing again. "H-he was so in-incredibly stupid!"

"That's right, Ms Granger," replied Binns, slightly miffed at her lack of respect. "Well, even though King Ghorck couldn't even harm a fly with his tactics he was still …"

Hermione and Harry roared with laughter. They simply couldn't calm themselves and opted to leave the classroom altogether when Binns glared at them.

In the corridor everything was quiet, and it made their laughter seem even louder than it already was. But they calmed down soon, now, that the first bout of hilarity was gone.

Staring out of the window and onto the snowed-in Quidditch pitch, Harry said: "We have to remember that."

"Definitely," agreed Hermione with a smirk.

Harry took a scrap of parchment and a pencil out of a pocket and started to scribble. When he was done and showed it to Hermione she promptly burst into fresh giggles.

"Is it good?" Harry asked, grinning.

"Hell, yeah," gasped Hermione, holding her sides gingerly. "It's a pity that we can't carry an emblem with us. This would be our flag."

They shared a last snigger and ventured back into the classroom, looking innocently at Binns. Fortunately he didn't take points and just reprimanded them for disrupting classes. Harry threw Dean his drawing when Binns wasn't looking and gave him the thumbs up. Dean grinned back and nodded.

Divination with Firenze was enjoyable as always. They were still studying trees. Harry didn't really care for trees but he learned some interesting things about them nonetheless.

Firenze went from one student to the next and quietly conversed with them. When he was with Harry they talked about other things than the lesson, or at least Harry tried to. Time was too short, however, so Firenze just smiled at him and continued on to Nott who was paired with Padma this time.

"I think he just didn't want to tell us what he knows about Grawp," said Ron darkly.

Harry sighed. "It doesn't really matter anyway. I was just curious."

"Aren't you happy that he's gone?" Ron asked. The bell rang and they started to pack their bags. He lowered his voice a bit when Malfoy looked over to them, scowling. "I mean, all he caused us was trouble."

"Of course," replied Harry quickly, "but he's still Hagrid's brother. I don't know if Hagrid would tell us anything. Not when Dumbledore forbade it."

Malfoy sneered at Harry when he brushed past him, Pansy hot on his heels. Even his more than unkind snarling didn't keep the girl off his case, and for a second Harry felt true pity. He then caught Crabbe and Goyle looking at him and making kissy lips, smacking exaggeratedly.

"Gross," mumbled Ron, "what's with them now? They belong to the mental ward of St. Mungo's, really." He glared at them when he and Harry left the room, leaving a sunny clearing behind.

"Yeah, if they sell brains in there," muttered Harry in annoyance. ,,Otherwise it'd be wasted time and money."

Ron had Potions now while Harry and Hermione had two free periods, much to the envy of Ron, Dean, Seamus, Parvati, Lavender and Neville, who all had to endure Snape's bad mood for two periods straight. And in a bad mood he was, they had seen him growling and snarling during breakfast, scaring Blackadder not just a little.

Harry met Hermione at the staircase that led up to the Arithmancy classroom. They quickly decided to go the Great Hall and do something useful after they had repacked their bags for Transfiguration.

"Honestly, Harry, you already are quite good at Transfigurations but it won't do that you're drifting off all the time," snapped Hermione when she caught Harry not paying attention for the second time.

"Sorry," muttered Harry. "I'm just distracted about the whole thing with Voldemort. He's awfully secretive lately and I want to know what he's up to. If I could just sneak into _his_ mind."

Hermione sighed in frustration. "That's what I wanted to talk about the other night, but you were too busy bitching about your scuffle with Snape to listen to me."

"Why are you so aggressive?" snapped Harry irritably. "In case you have forgotten, I had my head full with Voldemort that evening. You can really be unfair, do you know that?"

Looking taken aback, Hermione just stared at him. After a few seconds she dropped her gaze. "Sorry, Harry," she mumbled. "I shouldn't have said that. I know you try your best."

Harry sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, I just don't want to be badgered about that, alright? It's not so easy as you might think it is. If I tried to get in his head he would notice right away. I'm not skilled at that. Before I can even think about it I have to practice Legilimency much more."

"Sometimes I forget that not everything is as easy as the theory," said Hermione softly in a choked voice. "Forgive me?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "Just remember that the rest of us aren't as smart as you."

"Oh, you," said Hermione and swatted him lightly.

Her eyes were awfully bright and her cheeks flushed, but the smile was true and Harry pulled her into a tight embrace. He knew she just wanted to help, and despite his occasional annoyance he was beyond grateful for her support.

When she had collected herself she pushed her books and parchment away and turned to Harry. "So, you wanted to talk about Voldemort. Talk."

"There's nothing to talk about. I just wondered what it was you had to say the other night. Tonight I slept well, really." Harry poked Hermione's wand with his own before he frowned. "Which is strange, given that Voldemort was in such a bad mood recently."

Hermione scrutinised him for a moment. "Well, we both know that Dumbledore said your connection with Voldemort works both ways. I just wondered how Voldemort is making you feel his rage. I would have guessed he's just projected it on you."

Harry contemplated that. "So you think his ability to perform Legilimency is also allowing him to send his feelings through the link? Then why did I never manage to send mine to him?"

Shrugging, Hermione took her wand and stroked it slowly. "Because you never tried, I guess," she said. "The thing is, that link between you and him is always there, you just have to find it."

A smirk spread out on Harry's face. "I wonder what he would say about my fury. Let's say Malfoy annoys the hell out of me and I'm sending Voldemort the brunt of it. Do you think he would be annoyed?"

"I could imagine that he feels secure because you don't use the link like he does," replied Hermione. "But I'd really like to know what he'd do."

Harry and she shared a look as only the two of them could, and a smirk tugged at their lips. Harry knew that he would try to find the link and bother Voldemort a bit. He knew that it was dangerous and most likely irritating the Dark Lord to no end which, in turn, would make Voldemort irritate him. But for the first time in his life he thought that he could probably put up with it.

"Well, are you ready for Transfigurations now?" Hermione asked quietly. "And please, tell me what happens, alright?"

"I promise," said Harry sincerely.

After lunch and two tiresome periods of Transfiguration Harry, Ron and Hermione were glad to retreat to their common room and do what homework was left for the week. Harry and Hermione didn't have too much time anyway because the weekly staff meeting took place tonight and they had to attend.

Harry had first wondered why there were suddenly sixth year Prefects at all but he had understood quickly. With Voldemort on the loose Dumbledore needed every helping hand to guide the students and keep them safe if necessary. So it was no surprise that he had again chosen Hermione and him for Gryffindor. And if Harry was honest, he liked being a Prefect.

When it was time he and Hermione left Gryffindor Tower and wandered down to the second floor where the staff room was located. The other Prefects and the Head Boy and Girl were already there, greeting Harry and Hermione with varying degrees of cheerfulness.

Several teachers arrived soon after and Flitwick let them into the staff room.

At once a flurry of feet and cloaks sounded as everybody searched a seat. Harry and Hermione sat at a short end of the table, next to Sinistra and Hooch. Malfoy and a persistent Pansy sat across from them, glaring twin glares of dislike when Hermione laughed about a joke Harry told her.

Soon after everybody was present and listening to Dumbledore who, once more, reported about the students in Hogwarts, their problems and other things. Nobody seemed really interested. Snape even looked as if he'd rather strangle himself than participate in a discussion about homesick second years. Blackadder suggested a bath of myrrh and thyme to relax the whole year.

Harry and Hermione were quickly bored. Dumbledore never told them anything important or interesting on these staff meetings. It seemed they were only doing it to appease Morgan Blackadder who could be a spy for You-Know-Who for all they knew.

Dumbledore rambled on about the progress Crabbe's and Goyle's detention were making; Snape muttered darkly about the lack of sense when it came to punishing those two boys. Harry could only agree.

After one very boring hour with little relevance to the Prefects and Head Boy and Girl Hermione and Harry were about to say their goodbyes to Hannah, Ernie, Anthony and Padma and to turn and go back to their common room.

Snape watched them with his dark eyes and told Hermione in clear terms that she was to go back to Gryffindor Tower immediately. McGonagall only nodded and strode out of the room.

Seeing that their Head of House agreed with Snape, Hermione just sighed and left at once, looking one last time at Harry who stood, bewildered and a bit concerned, with Anthony and Padma to talk a bit about the next meeting of the DA.

After she was gone the Head Boy and Girl followed, and the teachers also left swiftly for their chambers or to make their rounds.

"I wonder what has Snape so worried," whispered Padma who noticed a lot more than anyone gave her credit for. Harry strongly suspected that it came from Parvati's self-centred character; she was often confused with Padma when seen in passing.

Harry leaned closer to tell them but noticed Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson creeping closer. They obviously had wanted to listen in. He straightened and looked haughtily at the glaring girl.

"Sorry, did you want something, Parkinson?" he said coolly. "I can't remember inviting you to this conversation."

"Ha, whenever did I need an invitation, Potty?" she sniped back, fury glowing in her eyes for being told off like this.

"True. Nobody would invite you in the first place, so you've got to be sneaking around, right? I really pity you, Parkinson. Get some friends and a life, girl." Harry sneered and deliberately turned his back at her.

"That was a good one, wasn't it, Potter?" she asked shrilly, stomping her foot. "You'll pay for that, Potter, for all of it!"

"Can't you get a new line, Parkinson?" Harry asked in a thoroughly bored voice. "Or are you too dim to learn new words, hm?"

"Oh, you-you-," she huffed in nameless fury. "Just you wait, you're dead _meat_, Potter! The Dark Lord will _kill_ you! You won't live to see your next _birthdy_, Potter!"

With that she turned on her heel and stormed out of the room. Everybody who had heard that was speechless. Harry looked in the gaping faces of his friends and the slightly incredulous one of Malfoy.

"Oh, come off it," said Harry nonchalantly when nobody moved. "I get death threats from her all the time. Don't think too much about it."

"Unbelievable," muttered Malfoy and left the room.

Anthony and Padma followed. They had patrolling duty tonight and had to make their rounds before Flitwick could reprimand them for being tardy. Ernie and Hannah needed some good words from Harry before they were reassured about his well-being. When they were sure he was going to be alright they too left for their beds.

When everybody was gone Harry sighed and ran a hand through his black hair. Pansy's words lay bitter in his stomach, no matter how used he was to hear them. The girl was dangerous in her fury. Harry wasn't so stupid as to believe that he was invincible. He had seen and felt what hate could do, and he could do without it.

Silently, he left the staff room and turned to go into a dark corridor. He didn't want to go back to Gryffindor Tower yet, back to a happy Ron and a thoughtful Hermione.

After a few minutes of quiet walking he reached a door which he knew led to an old, empty classroom. Hogwarts had numerous of them and they always seemed to appear when they were needed.

He opened the door with a wordless _Alohomora_ and stepped inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

Sighing, he settled on the windowsill and used his cloak as cushion and to keep him warm. The chill was persistent but Harry was hesitant to make a fire lest he attracted the curiosity of a teacher. Malfoy's long and soft scarf would have to be enough.

For a while he just stared out of the window, making out the snowed-over line of trees of the Forbidden Forest. Snow sailed down in endless patterns, swirling around each other whenever a breeze or a gust of ice cold wind reached them.

Harry leaned his head against the cold glass of the window and just looked. The snow was pretty but it hindered him and his friends from going out of the castle and playing Quidditch or training Apparating.

"Don't you want to hex me or something?" he asked after a few moments. "Step in and close the door." He wasn't really surprised to be found, although he was surprised by _who_ it was that had found him. He had seen the pale reflection in the window glass.

A faint shuffling indicated that Harry's surprise visitor indeed closed and locked the door.

"Your locking spells are crap, Potter," came Draco Malfoy's cool voice.

"Well, I couldn't know you were out to meet me after curfew, Malfoy," said Harry, slight amusement tinting his voice.

He turned around and looked Malfoy in the eyes. The blonde seemed hard and unyielding in the weak light of the night, and his hair looked paler than ever. But he was really good-looking, Harry noticed, remembering Crabbe's and Goyle's unsubtle innuendo.

"So, what do you want and why aren't you hexing me?" Harry asked.

Malfoy strode over to the long and broad windowsill and made himself comfortable across from Harry. Harry wondered just how long this would take, and why Malfoy was trying to talk to him at all. The last time they had talked he had stunned Malfoy's hands, to his great satisfaction.

"I can always do that," replied Malfoy haughtily. "I rather wanted to ask if you've lost your last marbles, Potter. Getting Parkinson riled up like that. You _do_ know that her parents are Death Eaters, and that she's striving to be one, too."

"No surprise here, Sherlock," muttered Harry.

Malfoy sighed in annoyance. "I expected more from you, Potter. You should lay low when it comes to the Slytherins." His eyes gleamed silvery and a bit strangely. "We notice everything about you."

"Oh? And what would that be?" Harry asked. He meant it partly cynically and partly because he was really interested. "Do they wonder why I wear so large clothes?" He chuckled.

"Yeah, that too," admitted Malfoy, "but mainly your … well, how strong you are. Three quarters of Slytherin report back to their parents."

"You included," said Harry dryly.

"Me included," said Malfoy with a smirk. His face became once more serious. "I want to answer a question you asked me, and I didn't want Granger or the Weasel to listen."

Harry sat up. He had only asked Malfoy one serious question and he was curios about the answer. For a second they just stared at each other, looking into each other's eyes, trying to find out why they were meeting here, why this was even happening.

"I don't want you killed," said Malfoy coolly after a few seconds.

"That's not what you said after last year," replied Harry softly. He hadn't expected that. His voice was calm, free from accusation or suspicion though. It would have been useless with Malfoy anyway. He absently stroked the scarf around his neck, grateful for the warmth it gave him.

Malfoy's gaze flickered to his moving hand and back up to Harry's face, obviously intent to see every tiny reaction.

"Yes, you brought Father to prison, after all," said Malfoy and pushed a loose strand of hair out of his handsome face. "But to tell you what, this short trip to Azkaban only served to gain him the Dark Lord's trust, so it wasn't all that bad. And Fudge, that idiot, is just too easy. You did us a favour in the end, Potter."

"I wonder why you're telling me that," said Harry in a dark voice. "Why would I believe you?"

"Why wouldn't you?" countered Malfoy and sneered. "I have no need to lie to you. Parkinson is a demented cow. As long as you live, Potter, she'll have someone to bitch about and to foil her atrocious ideas of marriage. If nothing else, you're good for that."

Harry laughed heartily about that. "So I save your sorry ass, Malfoy, I can't believe it!"

"I'd choose you over her any day, Potter, I'm that desperate," replied Malfoy dryly. "And my father is, too. Parkinson and her brain-deprived mother badger him about an arrangement whenever they see him."

Harry shuddered. "You'll forgive me if I don't believe that that's all," he said. "What the fuck is up with Crabbe and Goyle? They drive Snape crazy. They'll be lucky if they're still alive to go to their next detention tomorrow."

Malfoy looked sharply at Harry, obviously trying to see what he really wanted to know. "Why do you ask, Potter? I doubt that they're that important to you. Or Snape."

Harry's tone sharpened when he heard Malfoy's voice drip with mistrust and accusation. "It's not about Snape. Crabbe and Goyle are behaving like sick fucks, excuse the expression. I don't want them to hurt people I know. Hell, they even said something to Snape that made him explode like dynamite."

Malfoy stared at Harry, silver eyes unblinking. Harry was a bit unnerved about the strange colour; it was, as if they became magical at night. And he knew how stupid that thought was.

"They get orders from their parents," said Malfoy slowly, glaring at Harry.

"Tell me something I don't already know ," replied Harry, tensing. "Why are they doing that? Do they want to get kicked out, or what?"

Malfoy sighed, the first, deep expression he showed since he came sneaking into the room.

"I don't know, Potter. All I know is that the Dark Lord commands them and they obey. I doubt they're under Imperious. And before you ask: yes, they do plot against you, but since their intelligence is rather limited you have nothing to fear." He smirked. "Besides, you already won Blaise for your cause, he'd warn you if they actually came up with something."

"You know about him," stated Harry flatly. The expression on his face, however, was dangerous.

"Yes, I know. I also know that he's with Finnigan of all people."

"You'd do well not to endanger him, Malfoy. Because if you do, you'll pay." Harry wondered for a brief moment how Malfoy found out. And why Malfoy played along with it when he and Blaise were taunting him Monday night.

"I know." Malfoy smiled an odd half-smile. His gelled hair didn't seem so greasy, maybe it was wearing off now, after the long hours of the day. At any rate, it really looked much better when it wasn't tamed like this. For a second Harry even thought that Malfoy should wear his hair longer, like his father. It would suit him best.

"So, what did you really come for?" Harry asked, looking squarely at Malfoy and disrupting his own rather disturbing train of thought. "Surely not to enjoy my sophisticated company."

Malfoy snorted at that, destroying the image of his father Harry had had for the last few seconds. "That you even know the word, Potter."

"Well?" Harry queried, already expecting the answer.

Malfoy squirmed.

Harry tugged at Malfoy's scarf. "You want it back already, am I not right? Miss it so much? Or are you just desperate for my highly secret perfume?"

Malfoy blushed like a beacon; Harry could see it even in the dim light. He grinned broadly.

"Ha, I knew it!" he crowed triumphantly.

"Shut up, Potter!" Malfoy said loudly. He held his hand out nonetheless, ignoring his own mortification.

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so, Malfoy. We have an oath concerning that scarf and I'm not about to break it. Who knows what will happen to me." He tugged gently at the fine scarf, treading the dark green fringe through his fingers.

"I'm ending the oath, Potter," said Malfoy through clenched teeth. "Just give it to me already."

"I don't believe you," replied Harry, frowning. "I grew up with Muggles. I know nothing about oaths so you'll forgive me if I don't trust you."

Malfoy's figure sagged. He obviously couldn't argue with that logic, or maybe he was just resigned about Harry's stubbornness.

"You certainly _do_ have a thing for scarves, don't you?" Harry asked Malfoy flippantly. He hinted at the first day of the Christmas holidays, when they had ridden in a carriage together. Malfoy had hogged his scarf for two weeks or so before he had given it back eventually.

Malfoy blushed again, cursing Harry with colourful profanities. "I wouldn't if you'd just tell me the bloody name of the stuff, and you know it, Potter," he hissed.

Harry sighed. There simply was nothing he could tell Malfoy, otherwise he would have done so already so he could spend his schooldays in peace. But he would be generous tonight – and embarrass Malfoy thoroughly as well.

"No such luck, Malfoy. But you can have a sniff to tide you over to tomorrow," said Harry, hiding his impish grin behind the scarf.

"I can what?" Malfoy asked in a low voice. "You really don't know what you're saying, Potter."

"Take it or leave it," said Harry and stretched his legs a bit. "And then leave me alone."

Malfoy rose from his seat like a big, pale cat. His expensive cloak rustled around his calves and a silver ivy cloak pin gleamed in the dim light. His glare seemed to take Harry apart and put him back together.

The silent moments passed thickly, and then, suddenly, Malfoy moved forward, put a hand behind Harry's head and leaned over. A soft sound and an even softer sensation was all Harry could feel as Malfoy really sniffed his neck delicately. He never, ever, in a million years, would have thought that Malfoy would actually take him up on that offer.

But he had.

A shiver passed through Harry and a cloud momentarily dulled all his senses except his sense of tact. Malfoy's fingers in his hair stroked his scalp softly as he let them slip out of the messy locks. Everything was so crazy in that second or two, and when Harry came back to his senses the room was as empty and silent as before Malfoy had interrupted his thinking.

Shaking his head, Harry slumped back against the wall and buried his nose in Malfoy's scarf. Something serious was going on with the both of them. He hadn't even insulted Malfoy once tonight.

It was late when he finally went to bed and fell into a heavy sleep.

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On Wednesday Harry had the feeling that Malfoy never let him out of his sight once. Harry wondered if he really wanted the scarf so badly, and after Divination he even made his way over to take it back, but Hermione dragged Harry quickly out of Firenze's classroom, claiming that she needed his help with some homework. She intoned homework in that way that showed Harry that she really meant the DA, so he followed eagerly and forgot Malfoy until dinner.

At dinner, however, Pansy Parkinson claimed Malfoy's whole attention, mainly because he tried to shake her clingy fingers off his arm and get something in his stomach.

Harry decided against giving Malfoy his scarf back then because he could do without another round of threats from her. Blaise looked at him from across the hall and winked, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"What's up?" Ron asked, glaring at Malfoy. "Did he bother you again?"

_You have no idea_, thought Harry and just shook his head.

"Malfoy always has some issues," said Hermione helpfully. Harry looked gratefully at her and she smirked back. "Don't worry so much, Harry can handle him."

"Right," admitted Ron and returned to his mashed potatoes, completely forgetting about Malfoy at once.

Harry half planned to catch up with Malfoy later to give him the stupid scarf back, but again Hermione wanted his help for the DA lesson plan and he decided quickly against it. There were more important things than Malfoy and his scarf. Besides, it helped him to repress the memory of last night. It was too strange and too … forbidden.

When Dennis and Colin were just about to approach him again about their project, Harry and Hermione fled, leaving Ron to his extensive dinner. The brothers looked thoroughly disappointed but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He would tend to their hobby when they had fulfilled their duties. He still waited for pictures of Hermione.

Once they were closing the door to the Room of Requirement behind them, Hermione jumped at Harry.

"Okay, now spill everything, Harry. Why is Malfoy looking at you like that and why are you behaving like, I don't know what?" she said in a demanding voice.

"Define 'I don't know what'," replied Harry, hiding his shocked reaction quite well.

Hermione huffed as she stalked over to their logbook to look over the last entrances. "Something is definitely off with him this year. He hasn't really attacked us until now. Excuse me if I find this strange. And then _you_, Harry Potter, spend an awful lot of time riling him up and playing around with him."

Harry blushed. "You know I don't mean it!" he said hotly. "God, I thought _you_ of all people would be fine with it."

"I _am_," she said just as hotly. "But he's even more fixated on you, don't you see that? I wonder what he wants. Or does he have a perfidious plan to give you to Voldemort and decided to tell you last night? I'm just worried. You're playing your games with him and everybody finds it funny, but what if he's got a purpose allowing you that? I can't believe he's as helpless about it as we think he is."

Harry had to admit that she was right. He knew all that, of course, but still, it was too funny to fool around like that and have the upper hand for once. Besides, Malfoy had given him some information yesterday night and he believed they were true. Malfoy knew about Blaise's allegiances and interests and still they were friends. Harry truly believed that Malfoy hadn't lied to him yesterday. Scary as it was, but he _trusted_ him.

Shivering, Harry pushed the revelation far away and turned his attention back to Hermione. She was flipping through the pages of the book and muttered under her breath, crowing triumphantly once in a while.

Harry reckoned that Hermione didn't want to pursue this train of thought further, so he asked, "What are you looking for, 'Mione?"

"I thought we had the three basic illusion charms already but I can't find them," she said distractedly. "We have covered so much already that I lost track."

Curiously, Harry leaned over her shoulder and scanned the pages. Why would Hermione, of all people, forget something like this? She remembered everything they had ever covered in the DA, of that he was sure. But maybe she was just a little bit stressed out and had forgotten that she wanted to teach them, not start with the next topic.

He pointed that out to her and then patted her shoulder when she reacted quite flabbergasted. Obviously she really had confused the past and present, or maybe her genial brain had been too fast for her own good for once.

"We will cover them in the next two meetings," said Harry reassuringly. "We will need them."

Hermione sighed and slammed the book shut. "Alright. Now, let's search for some good diversion spells."

Harry nodded and so they set to work, almost forgetting time. It was pure luck, really, that Harry looked up to the big clock on the wall. Its fingers already showed to the patch 'Detention with Snape'. He pointed it out to Hermione and she left the Room of Requirement in a haste, barely saying goodnight to Harry before she closed the door behind her.

Shaking his head, Harry chose a spot on the floor. He still had that stupid assignment for DADA, so he decided to Ground and Centre now and write it in peace. The probability of having success was much bigger here than in the common room anyway.

In the calm and quiet of the Room of Requirement it wasn't difficult to find some candles and a cloth to sit on. He prepared his chosen spot, sat down, lightened the candles and put his wand down after he had called upon the elements and drawn his circle.

He didn't need much time to slip into meditation and lose himself in the mist of quiet and peace. His circle protected him from evil in this vulnerable state.

Slowly he lost the connection of the here and now and stepped into a dream realm. It came easier now without interrupting noises or the knowledge that someone could be watching.

Harry's breathing evened out. The warmth of the Room of Requirement slowly gave way to the cooler, fresher air of an ancient forest. Harry smelled oak leaves and fir needles. In wonderment he touched the soft ground, feeling the pulsing life in every clump of dark earth and in every fir cone that had fallen from the trees. He then opened his eyes and was greeted by soft light that caught in slight wisps of mist.

Looking up, Harry stared into the distant crowns of trees so big like average sky scrapers in London. From afar some small birds twittered. Otherwise it was very calm.

Shivering with excitement and awe, Harry slowly got up. Once more his feet and chest were bare. It felt natural. With silent steps he started to make his way around the huge trunks of the trees, touching the thick bark here and there. He felt like walking around in a cathedral, or on very holy ground. It was so beautiful.

For some time all Harry did was walking and enjoying the peaceful silence. Every now and then he thought he saw a unicorn or some fairies from the corner of his eyes. But as soon as he turned to look at them they vanished.

After a while he came to a pond that was completely surrounded by willows and flowers in a myriad of colours and shapes. He stepped on a small patch of grass and sank to the ground, touching the still water with his fingertips. The surface rippled pleasantly and Harry saw some fish flitting this way and that. Then it was still again, gleaming like a mirror in the dim light.

Harry felt compelled to have a look at himself in the water, to see if he was still himself. Slowly he leaned over, but the water refused to show him his picture. He saw nothing but his hands that supported him on the edge of the pond. His body and face simply didn't show on the still surface.

Then a small fish, which bore a striking resemblance to Dumbledore, held its head out of the water and looked at Harry. Harry noted its strange colours and the large fins on its breast. They glittered in every colour imaginable, like tiny rainbows.

"A face is nothing in the plans of fate. A face doesn't define who you are," it suddenly said in a little yet manly voice.

Harry started upon hearing it speak so suddenly, although he knew he should have expected otherwise. How often did you see a Dumbledore-fish, anyway?

A sparrow landed on Harry's left hand and looked up at him with black eyes. "Other faces define your way. Watch them closely, little Harry Potter, they can be your salvation." It had a deep, female voice, so unlike a sparrow that Harry flinched and caused the small bird to flutter up with fast beats of its wings. "And names, Harry Potter. Forget names, in these times they're no more important than a tear cried over lost happiness."

With that it flew away, and the fish, too, dipped its head back under the water and whisked away in a quick, undulating move.

Harry took some deep breaths to calm himself. He sat back on his feet and closed his eyes. The faint pulsing of the earth beneath him faded away.

Harry muttered his thanks, his heartfelt gratitude for the wise words even if they didn't make any sense right now and welcomed the reality back in his mind. He loosened the circle and found himself back in the Room of Requirement, fully clothed and completely bewildered.

After some minutes Harry snuffed the candles and shakily grabbed his parchment and quill to write down what he had seen. He knew he wouldn't give this to Professor Blackadder, not in a million years. But Luna could read it if she wanted to. Harry trusted her, especially with this. If anybody could make sense of that it was she.

Harry needed quite some time to compose his report. He scratched out and filled in and rewrote whole passages until he was satisfied. Words seemed inadequate to describe his dream, and the beauty of it.

Finally, after another hour, Harry was finished and looked at the clock. He nearly had a heart attack when he saw that it was almost midnight, hours after curfew. Thankfully he was a Prefect, although not on duty tonight. So he hastily stuffed the two scrolls of parchment, the real and the faked one, into his pocket, draped the cloak and scarf around himself and left the Room of Requirement.

When he left it was with a new understanding of the Wicca methods of meditation and relaxation and even fortune-telling. Everything happened in agreement with the earth and nature. From Luna Harry also knew that every little hint given during such sessions should be valued. They were presents from the Goddess and God and showed their respect and even love for the witch or wizard that called upon them.

Thankfully nobody saw him on his way back to Gryffindor Tower. Harry slipped quickly through the portrait hole of the Fat Lady and ran up to his dorm. Ron, Dean, Seamus and Neville were surprisingly still awake. Neville tended to his _mimbulus mimbletonia_ and petted it carefully while Dean and Seamus played Exploding Snap. Ron was reading over his DA notes and was absently trying out wand movements.

Harry felt tired and slouched into the bathroom to brush his teeth and have a quick wash. He wanted nothing more than to practice Occlumency, maybe work a bit on his neglected Legilimency and then go to sleep.

Back in his bed he spelled the bed hangings shut and put a silencing bubble around himself that would keep noises from the others out; the game between Dean and Seamus had become rather loud in the past minutes.

After Grounding and Centring it was very easy for Harry to slip into his trance. He erected his shields, using Snape's many memories for reference and then working on his labyrinth and traps. Slowly but surely it looked like something useful. The part of Snape he still harboured in his mind reluctantly applauded him for the progress.

Half an hour later Harry was completely beat, stuck his head out of his bed and wished his friends a good night. Tonight he knew that he might need the silencing charm around his bed because he would try to find the link. But before he did that he removed the most important memories of today and of his recent life from his head and placed them into the Pensieve. The Malfoy Kiss seemed smug to Harry tonight. It was a memory he both disliked and liked. After all, it was the first kiss where nobody had cried. On the other hand it had been Malfoy senior and his scion.

_Oh, well_, he thought, _nothing and nobody is perfect_.

He turned in his bed and put out the light of his magical lamp with a casual wave of his hand. And it really could have been worse. It could have been Crabbe. Or Goyle.

Harry shuddered.

* * *

**End of chapter 11**


	13. Chapter 12

_Disclaimer_: Nothing belongs to me, except the plot. :-)

_Note_: Hello again, and thank you sooo much for your reviews and favs. Some of you really paid me great compliments and I'm very grateful that you like the story so much ^_^ My thanks, as usual, also go to my fantastic beta **Licelli**. You rock!

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**Chapter 12**

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Breakfast was a horrible affair for Harry the next morning. Malfoy was glaring at him accusingly, and Harry actually felt bad for not giving him back the scarf yesterday as he had been supposed to do. He would do it today, he promised himself, and nothing would keep him from that.

Without real appetite he slowly munched his scrambled eggs and some toast, agonising about his first attempt to locate his link to Voldemort. He didn't expect to find it on the first try but it still had been gruelling and irritating to search for something he rather didn't want to know anything about. At all.

He had an idea how to get inside of Voldemort's mind, though but he feared what he would see if he did. It was so confusing, not to mention awful, that he actually had to wait for an action of the Dark Lord in order to have easier access to his mind. And besides, Harry wasn't even sure he could do this even if Voldemort felt some strong emotion.

Growling, he pushed his plate away from him and glowered at Malfoy as if he was responsible for his predicament. Malfoy glowered back righteously, causing Pansy to screech at him. Several other students were giving Pansy dirty looks; as it seemed nobody was quite awake yet, and even less were ready to hear another diatribe of hers against Harry, not even the Slytherins.

The first two periods were DADA, so Harry, Hermione, Ron and the other Gryffindors slouched to the classroom and settled down in their seats. Harry put his scroll with his report in front of him on his desk. Hermione looked at it critically.

"You actually managed something?" she asked wryly. "Honestly, I couldn't bring myself to do it, not after yesterday's detention. I resorted to your and Ron's old tactic of making up stuff. It's not as if she'd notice the difference."

"Funny-ha, 'Mione," said Harry in annoyance. "Yes, I saw something and no, I won't tell Blackadder. Ron's and my method still works well for us." He immediately felt bad for snapping at her, but he couldn't help it. Sometimes she sounded as if she didn't believe that they could do decent work.

"Don't take it out on me if you have issues," she said simply. Hermione smiled reassuringly at Harry and patted his hand softly. "You'll see, sooner or later you'll have a break-through. And if not …" Her smile faded a bit. "If not we still did everything we could."

"It's not enough," Harry ground out, tired and fed up with Voldemort and himself. Why did he have to be too weak and stupid to get it right? Time was running out, and fast.

He had wanted to say more, to bring up some sort of apology, but Professor Blackadder just then decided to make her appearance. She swept down the staircase and greeted the class with her calm, velvety voice.

"Good morning, class," she said. "I hope you remembered your homework. Those who didn't hand it in already please give it to me now …"

Harry and Hermione both held out their scrolls out for Blackadder to take them. After that they decided to rebel against her and read notes for the DA instead of listening to her lecturing. At one time Harry caught the words 'starflower dust' and 'iron fork' and decided that he didn't need to hear more.

Still, the two periods passed by too slowly for the whole class' liking. During the last fifteen minutes Parvati and Lavender had taken to curling their hair around their wands to make it curly and springy. Dean and Seamus played a game of chess in the back of the room and Ron was doodling on his next assignment in sheer boredom. Only Neville seemed to pay attention though it was evident that it pained him to hear Professor Blackadder confuse certain plants and their properties. He wasn't so good in Herbology for nothing, after all.

Harry just stuffed his DA notes away when Professor Blackadder approached him. She held his scroll in her hand.

"Oh no, what does she want now?" he groaned tiredly. Hermione just shrugged and hurried to leave her seat next to Harry. Ron grimaced at Harry behind Blackadder's back.

"Mr Potter," said Professor Blackadder when she'd reached the table. "I took the liberty to read your report first." She unrolled it and read over a few lines before she looked at him again. "Professor Trelawney told me that you reached a certain level in Divination, and I must say I'm impressed. Not only does it seem like a true vision, you also obviously put some effort into your work."

Despite his dislike of her Harry was flattered. His skill in telling tales must have improved greatly if he was able to fool Blackadder so easily. "Thank you," he said.

_Thankfully it wasn't my real vision, otherwise you might be crying out in happiness, Professor_, he thought smugly.

"But I wondered if there might be more, if you could do even better," Professor Blackadder continued in quiet excitement. "You're the only one in this class who understands the principle of working with Earth, not against her. There must be more to it, Mr Potter!"

A slightly crazy glint in her eyes made Harry recoil. They didn't know for sure if she was a spy for Voldemort or not – her lax teaching policy certainly spoke against her – and right now he was actually a little scared.

"All the possibilities to see what will come," said Professor Blackadder softly, getting her excited voice back under control. "I'm sure you had other, interesting visions, Potter. Why don't you tell me about them? Maybe you have a true gift, wouldn't that be wonderful?"

"No, I don't think so," replied Harry hastily, trying to sound bored, "I find the whole thing girlish and stupid. If you'll excuse me, I've got Charms now …"

"Yes, of course," said Professor Blackadder, not sounding offended in the least. "And if you want to try more just come and see me."

"Of course," lied Harry and gathered his things. Hermione and Ron had already left the classroom, no doubt fleeing from Professor Blackadder.

"Oh, and Mr Potter, you're getting top marks on this one," called Professor Blackadder after him, her misty voice filled with confidence that he would return.

Arriving in Flitwick's classroom, Harry threw himself into his seat next to Ron and Hermione. He beckoned both of them closer and quickly told them about Blackadder's strange behaviour. Hermione, clever as she was, took her quill and made a quick note for later, when they had time to think about it.

Right now Professor Flitwick demanded their attention. He had noticed that the class was ahead of the syllabus and could seemingly do everything with ease, which suited him just fine. So today he taught them a spell that allowed the caster to create images in the air. The livelier the imagination of the caster was the livelier the picture would be.

Everybody had a lot of fun creating trap doors on walls or gaping abysses in the classroom. Harry was excited; the spell fit perfectly in their DA training. The whole year was in the DA so everybody doubled their efforts to get it right. Flitwick awarded a lot of points afterwards but warned them not to misuse the spell out of class.

Ron hung his head in disappointment. "Aw, Flitwick is no fun," he said. "It could have been so funny to let Crabbe and Goyle run into a wall."

"Or Parkinson," added Hermione snidely when said girl passed her by, sneering at her.

Malfoy appeared around the corner, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle who stared menacingly at everybody who crossed their path. When he spotted Harry, Malfoy's steps became arrogant and his glare intensified.

"Potter," said Malfoy coolly.

"Malfoy," replied Harry, not as coolly. Malfoy's close proximity made him think about two nights ago, and Malfoy sniffing his neck. His head swam slightly and he shook it to get rid of the disturbing memory.

"You owe me, Potter," hissed Malfoy when he strutted past him.

"That I do," said Harry quietly. "Tonight."

Malfoy gave him a last, haughty stare and stalked off, leaving a sheepish Harry, a suspicious Hermione and an outraged Ron behind.

"Date, Potter?" grunted Goyle as he followed Malfoy.

"I knew you fancied him," added Crabbe gleefully.

Harry blushed slightly and gave them both a dirty look. "Will you stop it? Bloody idiots!"

"Come off it," said Hermione, practical as ever, dragging Harry and Ron with her, out of Crabbe's and Goyle's vicinity. "They have every reason to wonder. Why do you owe Malfoy? Tell me it's nothing serious."

"It _is_ nothing serious," said Harry in exasperation. "I'm not that stupid. It is, however, between me and him, so leave it."

"Just kick his ass if you will," said Ron in a growl. "The git wouldn't even acknowledge 'Mione or me."

"Would you rather have him call you Weasel?" Harry asked sarcastically. "I'm just glad he didn't start a fight. And now come, we have History."

Ron groaned. "The day can't be getting any worse, it can't." He muttered about Malfoy and his cronies and how he would love to hex them to pieces.

Harry and Hermione dragged him into the classroom and ordered him to read his notes for the DA. Given that Hermione supported the idea, Ron's ire was appeased for the time being. Harry didn't feel all that well about Malfoy himself and wondered how he could sneak him a message where to meet him after dinner.

Professor Binns glared at Harry and Hermione when he floated through the blackboard to greet his class.

"Mr Potter, Miss Granger, I hope you will keep your amusement out of this class, this time," he said dryly.

Of course Harry and Hermione nodded, not wishing to get a detention. Binns had never given one until now but he very well might if they pushed him too far. He never cared if somebody slept in his class, or read a magazine, or wrote letters or the like, but he did dislike noise and loud interruptions of his droning.

So Ron, Harry and Hermione busied themselves with notes for the DA and ignored Binns otherwise. They got a good deal done during those two periods. At lunch, between the two periods, Hermione explained a particularly tricky wand movement to Ron with the other boys of their year listening closely. Harry could see that she was flattered to have Ron's, Dean's and Neville's undivided attention. Although she led the theory of the DA, Harry knew that she felt she was still too little appreciated by her comrades.

After lunch they had their last period, and when the last, dry and utterly long minute of History had passed by and the bells had released masses of students, Harry and his friends walked to Gryffindor Tower to get rid of their school books. Feeling like he had rocks in his head, Harry decided to forego the study session in the Room of Requirement. He rather wanted to meditate and try to tune his senses to Voldemort. It was just as well that everybody else went out for one thing or another – Seamus went to see Blaise, and the other Gryffindors who were in the DA decided to join Hermione and Ron for some extra training. The common room or the dorm was rarely that quiet.

For a moment Harry was wondering if he should use the quiet to give the scarf back to Malfoy, but then again there always was the night.

So he decided against it and started to make himself ready in the dorm. It was better to make use of the quiet as long as it lasted; it came rarely enough as it was. He closed and locked the door with three different locking spells and also used a silencing spell to ensure his privacy. The window was quickly covered with a bed sheet. The snow, although not falling as heavily as before, was still swirling animatedly through the air and landed on the Hogwarts grounds in liberal amounts.

Finally done after some rummaging about, Harry allowed himself to relax. He sat on a comfortable pillow and had a comforter around his shoulders. It was chilly in their tower, although the House Elves put large amounts of logs into their fireplace and had placed several heating charms on their dorm.

Slowly Harry lost himself in his thoughts. He relaxed and sorted through his mind, coming to terms with this and that, repressing his memories of the Malfoy Kiss or Sirius running about with Remus and Buckbeak. Images of his friends appeared and disappeared, enemies came to the surface and sneered at him. Snape was there, hook-nosed, dark and imposing, a Dementor made him shiver with cold …

He stowed all that away and left it behind, still delving deeper in his memories, thoughts, wishes and fears. He knew that there was a part in him that harboured the cursed connection to Voldemort, the link that made him suffer through nights and even days.

Harry's breathing evened out and became deeper, and without him knowing, a faint glow emerged from his body and covered him from head to toe, almost like fairy dust. It shimmered faintly in bright colours until it disappeared again.

Now Harry passed by the dreaded yet loved memory of his parents dying, loved because he could hear their voices – it was his only memory of them. He heard his mother beg for his life and then scream in terror, and after the Dark Lord had killed his mother he saw Voldemort's face right before the green, green curse backfired on him and reduced him under shrill shrieking to a pile of robes and not much more.

Harry pushed the memory because he felt a faint pulsing in his head. Maybe he was on the right track. He pushed with all his might to see more of this fateful day. There was so much green all over, everything was covered in that taunting, deadly colour. Harry pushed and pushed, wishing with his entire soul to see more of it, thinking frantically that this couldn't be all. Power flowed through his body and he used it to push even harder to make the blackness around the core vanish, to force the light to clear the view. And then, suddenly, the darkness was gone completely and he could see the destroyed room from fifteen years ago clearly.

The arms of his mother were still around him as they lay on the dusty floor. Harry was wrapped in a soft blanket that hadn't been so much as singed during Voldemort's attack. He could smell his mother's lovely scent, still fresh and unique and wonderful even in death. He craned his little neck, trying to turn his heavy baby head, desperately trying to look up to her, to find something comforting after this horrible moment.

He was, however, only seeing her dead, pale face, still beautiful if contorted in anguish for him. And he could feel the raw, piercing pain that radiated from his slashed forehead. Baby-Harry started to whimper and sob, trying to grab at his mother's pullover, trying to get a reaction out of her, just a small sign, a smile, a breath, even a heartbeat.

Instead it was so silent, so still. Harry wiggled in the lifeless arms, feeling that something terrible had happened and nobody would comfort him. He rose his small fists in a last, desperate attempt to get attention and then, after nothing came forth again, started crying his heart out–

With a harsh gasp Harry woke up from his trance. His scar pulsed uncomfortably and his hands were clenched tightly. Only when he rubbed his eyes he noted the wetness on his cheeks and lashes and his own just-barely controlled breathing. His hands were shaking terribly and he felt so angry and so incredibly lost that it hurt him physically – his joints were achy and his muscles were stiff from sitting still for so long.

It was with a new clarity that Harry realised what his mother had done for him. He never had been really able to imagine what a horror this must have been for his parents – or for him. His father had died while trying to protect his mother from Voldemort; he had died first, without Harry knowing what had happened. And then, then …

For the first time since he knew what had really happened to his parents, Harry allowed himself to cry his anguish out. The pain of knowing what could have been if Voldemort hadn't murdered his parents was just too much. He had _smelled_ his mother's scent, for Merlin's sake!

Harry cried and screamed and let his magic break loose to seek its way to still its thirst for revenge. He let it rave until he was burnt out and hollow. It was terrible and yet oddly satisfying, knowing that he had some other possibility to let his feeling out than a jog around the lake.

After his fit the dorm looked like a battlefield, completely destroyed and broken. His things and those of his friends were the only things still intact, but the walls were broken, bedposts and windows smashed, curtains ripped to shreds. Singed feathers were floating everywhere, snow was breezing into the dorm. Harry didn't feel the cold at all. It only matched his mood which was now below the freezing point.

With a deep sigh Harry leaned back against the destroyed remnants of his bed and closed his eyes. He felt better, now that his pent-up hate and anger had finally found an outlet. With frightening clarity in his mind he vowed revenge on Voldemort. Voldemort would die for what he had done, and he would die in a most painful and irreversible way.

Still, Harry was shaken about the memory he had relived just minutes ago. It was still burning inside him, eating at him and already fuelling his hate again. But despite his conflicting feelings, mostly his intense grief, he also had the feeling that this would do him good at last. Now he finally knew what had happened in detail, not just from others. This in itself was a great comfort and, unbelievably, a source of strength for Harry.

Harry sat a while longer on his broken bed and contemplated his life and his plans. He felt strangely detached right now, everything seemed so unimportant. School, teachers, friends. All that mattered were his parents and his hate for Voldemort. And even the Dark Lord was quickly vanishing from Harry's mind.

Sadness and love for his parents made Harry also strangely thoughtful. The rage, anger and hate was slowly replaced by awe, respect, longing and that overpowering love. He allowed the feelings, trying to imagine what it would be like if his parents were still alive and could offer him a normal family live. He wished with all his heart that they could be with him and hoped that they were well, wherever they might be now.

Harry wiped his face with both sleeves and resolutely brought his mind back under control. He didn't want to miss out on today's revelation, though, so for the first time in his life Harry grabbed a sheet of parchment, ink and a quill and started to write his experiences down. It wasn't so much an entry for a diary than a letter to himself and to his parents, addressing them as if they were just a wink away, waiting for Hedwig to deliver it to them. Doing this was incredibly calming, it felt really good.

Much later, after he had repaired the damage he had caused, he strolled down to the Great Hall for dinner. People greeted him on his way, especially the members of the DA. His faraway, serene look, however, kept them from talking to him. Harry was grateful, he didn't feel up to having normal conversations just yet. He just hoped that Ron and Hermione would understand that.

His friends were already seated and greeted him joyfully. Harry noted that everybody was excited, so the studying in the Room of Requirement must have been good. Dean and Seamus were gesticulating wildly with their hands, apparently recalling an interesting spell. Dennis and Colin were looking at Harry expectantly but he chose to ignore them and sat down when Hermione and Ron made room for him on the bench.

They spent the first few minutes in silence, each of them concentrating on their food. Harry, however, was merely toying with his sausages and just drinking some juice.

"Oi, mate, what's up?" Ron asked quietly. "You look … strange. Something happened?"

Harry smiled at him. "I'm okay. I'll tell you later about it, alright?"

Ron nodded and went back to devouring his food. Hermione's gaze lingered a bit longer on Harry's calm, almost expressionless face but she decided against saying anything for now and returned to her book that was propped up against a huge honey jar.

At some point Harry looked up and perused his schoolmates at the other three house tables. A few looked back at him when they noticed his gaze. Among them were Padma and Anthony as well as Justin, Luna and Cho Chang.

Harry forced himself not to linger on her pretty, doll like face. Instead he now looked over the students at the Slytherin table. Blaise saw him and waved sneakily. Malfoy next to him noticed and scowled at Harry, tugging meaningfully at his collar. Harry sighed. Malfoy wouldn't let this rest, ever.

"Cho is staring at you again," whispered Ginny from her seat next to Dean. "She does that often lately, Harry. Is there something going on?"

"No, there isn't," he reassured her.

Hermione looked up in interest and sneaked a glance over at the Ravenclaws. Harry followed her gaze. Cho really was still looking in his direction. Somehow this made his skin crawl, and not in a good way.

"Isn't it getting old for her to still be after you?" Ron asked, looking up from his plate and sneering in Cho's direction. "I mean, how often will you have to tell her to sod off until she gets it?"

Hermione snorted. "And here I thought Parkinson is the only girl who does that. Malfoy isn't too happy with her, either."

They shared a smirk, remembering several occasions where Malfoy had told Pansy off. It didn't seem to have any effect on her at all. Right now she was clinging to Malfoy's arm again, causing the blonde to swear loudly. Pansy only got off him when she saw herself confronted by two wands and a livid Snape. Half the school snickered when Snape obviously doled out another detention.

Harry groaned. "Oh no, not again. I just _know_ that I'll have to deal with her tonight, again. Life sucks."

Blaise's frustrated eye-rolling and Malfoy's stony face only confirmed Harry's suspicions. Harry, obviously along with Malfoy, had hoped to be able to give the scarf back without raising too many suspicions but with Crabbe, Goyle _and_ Parkinson there was little chance.

Pansy threw Harry a triumphant smirk when Snape's back was turned.

"She did that on purpose!" said Hermione loudly, attracting the attention of everybody within a ten feet hearing range.

"Of course she did," said Colin Creevey with a hint of jealousy in his voice.

Ron looked at him oddly before he glared at Pansy and showed her the finger when she smirked at him. Harry knew that the teachers saw the whole exchange but surprisingly nobody interfered, not even Snape.

Finally Ron tired of glaring at Pansy and returned to his meal. Harry glanced a last time at the Slytherin table, worried about Crabbe's and Goyle's smirks that could only be described as evil. And, what was even more worrying, he worried about Malfoy as well.

Harry tore his eyes from Malfoy when Blaise started talking to him quietly. He didn't want to appear nosy yet he couldn't help but wonder what was driving Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy to do the things they did. And it was just as obvious that he wouldn't get the answers to that question.

Dinner ended eventually, in fact much sooner than Harry would have liked. He had almost forgotten that he was supposed to go to detention tonight. Besides, he still felt weird from his earlier fit. He wasn't sure if he could put up with Snape or the Slytherins tonight.

Hermione touched his arm soothingly and smiled at him. Sometimes Harry thought she knew much more about him than he did himself. It was one of the reasons why he loved her so much, she was always there for him when he needed someone to understand his troubles.

"Kick Parkinson's ass for me," growled Ron when Harry and Hermione rose to go to their detention. "I would do it myself but not under Snape's nose."

He seemed to mean what he said so Harry just nodded solemnly and patted Ron on the back.

"We will. See you later."

"Bye, Ron," said Hermione. She smiled warmly at him which made Ron quite obviously very nervous.

"Bye, 'Mione. Don't let Snape annoy you too much." Ron couldn't look Hermione in the eyes for a second. With amusement Harry noted that Hermione had equal difficulties and preferred to stare at her book instead.

The awkward moment ended when other students started to leave their seats. Harry and Hermione waved at their friends and left the Great Hall quickly. It was a an accepted fact that they would be late when they arrived after the Slytherins, no matter how early they might appear in Snape's office. In that aspect Snape was just as bad as the Dursleys.

Harry led Hermione down to the dungeons without really seeing where he was going. He was mulling about ways how to give Malfoy the blasted scarf back when Parkinson was watching his every move tonight. Surely Malfoy had to know that, too.

Arriving in front of Snape's office (which, so Harry thought, they had come to know only too well these days they noticed, that the Slytherins weren't there yet, but they could hear them coming. It seemed to be a larger troop if the echoing sound of footsteps was any indication.

And really, not only Crabbe and Goyle appeared around the corner but also Pansy, a very disgruntled Malfoy and Blaise, who was smiling tentatively at Harry and Hermione.

"Oh, yes, I _totally_ forgot, it's time for the great Potter to watch our detention," said Pansy in a malicious voice. "Well then, I think we will just have to suffer his presence."

Crabbe and Goyle grunted in quiet laughter.

"Yes, wonderful, Parkinson," said Malfoy disdainfully. "Now I'm not only stuck with Potter but also with you. Honestly, you're so brain-dead, if I had to choose between you two I'd choose Potter any day."

Pansy batted her eyelashes at him. "What a way of flirting, my little dragon," she cooed. "If Potter is that great of a turn-on for you I'll ask our Lord for him later, as our toy …"

Malfoy made to answer to that but was disrupted by Snape slamming the door to his office open.

"What a wonderful way to start the evening, Miss Parkinson," Snape breathed darkly. "I, however, would advice you to keep your sordid, little delusions out of my dungeons. I have no time to waste with your childish, highly questionable ideas. I also presume that Mr Malfoy isn't interested in your ploys so please refrain from insulting him with your nonsense in the future. And now move before I make you regret that you ever stepped foot into this school."

His harsh glare left no room for argument, so Pansy stalked into his office first, head held high. Her lips were twisted in an angry purse and her eyes glittered dangerously.

Hermione glared hatefully at her back and got inside next. Harry could see that her wand hand twitched, and her rigid stance was enough to set off every alarm he had.

"What, do you need an invitation too?" snarled Snape when nobody moved after the two girls. "Get in, you lazy twits. Now."

Harry, Blaise and Malfoy hastened to obey the order. Crabbe and Goyle, however, were not. They walked as carelessly as they could, purposefully riling Snape up even more. Moreover, they wore those irritating smirks on their faces again, finally managing to make Snape lose his temper with them. With a swift pushing charm Crabbe and Goyle were propelled into the room. The door slammed behind them, making everybody but Snape flinch.

"Miss Granger, in there," said Snape icily, pointing at his private office door. "And you six, there." He pointed at the lab with a pale finger.

Hermione left without a word, ducking her head a bit in fear of Snape's wrath. Pansy sneered at her back, only to receive an even nastier glare from Snape and Harry in return. Blaise and Malfoy had already opened the door to the lab and were now choosing seats. For once both decided to sit right up to the front, as close to the teacher's desk as possible.

Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle were separately seated in the back from each other by Snape. He obviously didn't want to take any chances. His gloomy face and his more than murderous glare practically let the air crackle with energy. Harry wondered if anybody would be stupid enough to provoke him in this mood.

As it seemed nobody was, although Crabbe smirked at Goyle when Snape turned his back to charm the blackboard to show the lines they would be writing tonight. He made sure to put as many difficult words in one ridiculously long sentence as he could. Harry read it and had to refrain from snorting in glee.

"I repeat it for you, Mr Goyle," said Snape icily. "May it help to spur your rather slow mind on. Now listen: desoxyribonucleic acid contains your genetic information, which is responsible for your physical appearance and also for a great part of your rather limited intelligence. Write. That. Down," he breathed. "_Five hundred times_. If I see one missing line there will be _hell_ to pay. Potter will make sure you're doing it by hand, even if it takes all night."

"But Professor!" Goyle and Harry yowled in unison.

"_All night_?" Harry asked incredulously.

"_By hand_?" Goyle asked, horrified.

"Professor Snape, Goyle couldn't even do it if he were capable of copying the words on the blackboard," Malfoy cut in. "And given that he's too dense to do even that I seriously doubt he will be finished by the end of the month."

The short glance Malfoy gave Harry made clear that Malfoy was rather concerned for the moment when he could take his scarf back than the well-being of his classmate. Or Harry's for that matter.

"Is that so?" Snape asked with gleaming eyes. "Well, then I suggest he starts soon, along with Mr Crabbe and Miss Parkinson." He collected the wands of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy so they wouldn't cheat, sneered meanly at the three culprits who had annoyed him so thoroughly and left the lab, closing the door silently behind him.

For a while Crabbe and Goyle did as they were told. Harry suspected that they had experienced Snape in his worse moods before. Pansy on the other hand was only doodling on her parchment, not even pretending to work.

Harry silently passed out books and parchment to Malfoy and Blaise before he started to reread the receipt for the difficult Body-cooling Potion. It cooled a body down to ten degrees and allowed the drinker to avoid poisons, potions and spells that reacted to warmth. Harry took extensive notes and wondered why Snape was supporting him like this. Sure, the man was far from stupid, yet Harry wondered why he was helping him, giving him ideas to make it even easier for him to get himself in trouble.

After finishing copying down the receipt and the steps for brewing Harry watched Pansy for a while without her noticing.

She would stare at Malfoy's back every now and then, sigh longingly and then doodle some more on her parchment. It was a never-ending circle, watch, sigh, scribble. Watch, sigh, scribble. Still, it was better like this than have her complaining about one thing or another.

The scribbling of several quills and Pansy's annoying sighs aside, the room was eerily silent. Harry was now watching Blaise, who was chewing on the end of his quill, frowning over one passage of text or another. Malfoy next to him was stonily reading his book, trying to ignore the sighs from behind. His clenched jaw betrayed his outer calmness, as did his rigid posture. Harry could really feel with him on this one; he could only imagine how annoying Pansy was on Slytherin territory.

After the forty-sixth sigh (Harry had counted) Malfoy suddenly exploded. He turned around and barked: "By Merlin, Parkinson, _would you keep it down_! I am trying to _read_ in here and you're driving me MAD!" Malfoy turned to Harry and glared at him. "Potter, why don't you _do_ something!"

Harry smirked. "What, Malfoy, too afraid to do a bit of much deserved hexing?" He pulled his wand out nonetheless and pointed the tip at Pansy.

"You wouldn't," she said challengingly. "Snape will have your head if you hex me in any way, Potter." Pansy raised her chin smugly and smirked.

"And you obviously forgot that Snape will have _your_ head if you're not done by the end of the detention," replied Harry coolly. "And I don't think you wrote your lines as you were supposed to do."

"Who cares about school if I'll marry by the end of seventh year," said Pansy haughtily. "I'll have my home and my husband and be cared for."

"Aren't you supposed to bring something into a marriage as well?" Harry asked with a smirk. "But as I understand it now you're not required to have a brain to do that. But I really have to wonder, what do you _have_ to offer?"

"How dare you, Potter," seethed Pansy and angrily snapped her quill.

Blaise snickered but Malfoy gave Harry a glare that easily put Hermione in her worst mood to shame. Strangely, Harry actually felt compelled to let it be for now; it really wasn't wise to ignore a warning when it was still so fresh. And Malfoy might be many things, but stupid was definitely not one of them, so Harry swallowed the remark he had for Pansy and refocused on the problem at hand instead.

"Okay, that was enough fun," said Harry in an irritatingly friendly manner. "Parkinson, I suggest you start writing your lines now, and the rest, go back doing whatever it was you were doing."

Blaise was sitting down obligingly and went back to perusing his book, all the while carefully listening to everything that went on.

Malfoy was still up and glaring at Harry, obviously not satisfied. Harry smirked at him. He counted on two minutes maximum until Pansy would start mooning over Malfoy again, and yes, Pansy was sighing yet again after the first minute had barely passed.

"Sorry, Parkinson, but you have been warned," said Harry, wand in hand already, and smiling broadly. "_Silencio_!"

He then bowed exaggeratedly to Malfoy and Blaise and smiled charmingly. "Everything to keep the ladies happy."

Malfoy blushed pink and bowed his head to hide it. Blaise winked at Harry. His eyes were twinkling happily, reminding Harry why he liked the boy so much. Everything Blaise did supported Harry in its own way, and not only because Blaise was the only Slytherin with whom he was friends.

The silencing charm on Pansy worked well for the last two hours of detention. Crabbe and Goyle grunted and complained every time they had to write 'desoxyribonucleic acid'. Harry couldn't help himself and snickered quietly about their misfortune and Blaise obviously found it funny to watch Harry have fun.

Malfoy stared stonily in his book but he hadn't turned the page for over half an hour now, nor did he write anything down.

When the detention neared its end Hary got up and stepped up to Malfoy's desk. He couldn't help but be nosy; Malfoy was behaving strangely after all.

"What's up with you now?" he asked quietly. Crabbe and Goyle were already straining to hear more, much to Harry's annoyance.

Malfoy glared at him. "You know damn well why, Potter! I want back what's mine, that's what."

Blaise looked at each of them in surprise. "Just what is going on between the two of you?" he asked incredulously. "I thought I was the one …" He glanced at Crabbe and Goyle who were practically drooling for every little scrap of information and cleared his throat. "Nevermind."

Malfoy and Harry glared at each other, ignoring Blaise and the others in the room completely. Fortunately Snape decided to emerge from his office just then. He banged the door open and strode into the lab with billowing robes. Hermione didn't follow him.

"Crabbe, Goyle, your lines," snapped Snape in a vicious snarl. "And do hurry, I'm in no mood for your petty games. Just let me see the extent of your ineptness and then get out."

Goyle handed his scroll to Snape first. It was barely half covered in ink but Goyle didn't seem sorry or fazed at all. Snape snarled at the sloppy work and threw it on a nearby desk before he summoned Crabbe's.

After looking at it, Snape's lip curled in a sardonic sneer. "Ah, the joys of teaching. It is amazing how much you, Mr Crabbe, can make Potter seem like an academic prodigy in comparison to you. A feat, I'm sure, Mr Potter is most likely revelling in. Your work, however, rather makes me believe I ended up in a school for mentally challenged children." He threw both Crabbe and Goyle a venomous glare. "Be sure that I'll inform the Headmaster about your unacceptable behaviour tomorrow. Maybe he'll see fit to finally dismiss you to an academic institution that's appropriate for your limited capabilities. Hogwarts, obviously, is too difficult for you."

Harry gaped at Snape. That was the harshest thing he had ever heard the man say, and that involved a lot of insults against him and his father. He wanted to be angry at Snape for belittling his intelligence and capability to do decent schoolwork but couldn't because he was too moved by Snape's frustration and anger. He could _understand_ the man, and it was a rather scary experience.

As it seemed, he was not the only one. Malfoy and Blaise and even Pansy were looking at Snape with that same look of shock, apparently they hadn't believed that their Head of House would say or do something like this.

"Miss Parkinson, your scroll," said Snape after a long moment of silence. "And if I see one flower on it, you'll find your points in the negative."

Pansy squeaked, or would have done so if there hadn't still been the silencing charm around her table, and tried to hide her parchment.

"Silencing charm, Potter?" Snape asked with a smirk. "I can see how the detentions are furthering your resourcefulness." He swished his wand shortly and took the charm off of Pansy.

Harry couldn't believe that Snape hadn't taken points for that. Clearly Malfoy and Pansy couldn't believe it, either.

"Professor, won't you punish Potter for hexing me?" Pansy asked shrilly. "He left me like this for _hours_! What if I had needed _help_?"

"Stop being to melodramatic," said Snape shortly. "Now your scroll, I haven't got all night." He held out his hand and when Pansy didn't give it to him, he summoned it.

His coal black eyes flitted over the parchment, stopping here and there. Even his mouth curled occasionally, though not in amusement but obvious distaste.

"One hundred points from Slytherin, Miss Parkinson. I warned you." He turned around to Crabbe and Goyle. "And another one hundred points each from you both for equally shoddy work." He loomed menacingly over Goyle's desk. "If you actually, miraculously, possess the ability to think I'd advice you to make use of it now, because I won't be so forgiving next time. You are dismissed. Get out of here before I make you."

Blaise and Malfoy gasped audibly. Crabbe and Goyle looked dumbstruck for once. They had just lost their house three hundred points, and with Harry witnessing it, too.

"Oh, Potter, five points for solid spellwork," said Snape silkily and with a touch of viciousness. "And now get Miss Granger and escort her back to Gryffindor Tower. You are not, under no circumstances, to make any detours. Did I make myself clear?"

Harry nodded, too stricken for words and too anxious to look at Malfoy. He looked at Blaise instead, pleading with him to calm Malfoy down, and then he left the lab.

Hermione was waiting in Snape's office. She looked tired and a bit embittered; it obviously hadn't been going too well tonight. Her hair looked tousled and wild, as if she'd been running her hands through it way too often, and her mouth was set in a grim line that simply didn't fit her face.

Harry embraced her tightly.

"Hi," he said. "How's it going?"

"Dreadful," replied Hermione in a raspy voice. "We argued like mad about everything, and now I'm hoarse. I was just asking him if we could do something productive while we have to talk and he has the gall to tell me he can't imagine me doing anything productive at all in a lab. I could have _hit_ him for that!"

Harry took her hand and pulled her out of the lab. He didn't want to stay here, especially if Snape had given him instructions to bring Hermione back to their common room. He wondered why Snape was so worried about her, it wasn't as if Hermione couldn't defend herself.

Plus, Malfoy would be foaming at the mouth tomorrow, Harry knew it.

"Just pester him about it," said Harry. "I bet he'll cave in, if only to shut you up." He grinned. "I'd give a lot to see that."

"I hope you're right. After two weeks of talking and sniping at each other I want something else. If I have to sit there one more night I'm going crazy. You have no idea how it is to sit there for four _freaking_ hours every night and talk about the same stupid things. I think I know Snape better by now than even his own parents."

"And I bet you're still scraping at the surface," muttered Harry. He knew that Snape's home life had been less than pretty, much like his own. But he had sworn to himself to never reveal that particular secret. He owed Snape that much, and also owed it himself.

Hermione snorted in agreement. "The scariest thing of all is that I enjoy getting to know him. I already knew he's intelligent and well-read but the more time I spend with him the more I see that he's also very involved. He uses his knowledge to get what he wants and he does a lot to push himself. Did you know that he speaks six different languages fluently? Or that he has achieved Potions Mastery not only in Great Britain but also in India? His personal library is simply fascinating, he has some rare texts about the properties of–"

"Enough!" cried Harry in mock desperation. "Keep that stuff for when I'm awake! It's too much!"

Hermione laughed. "I bet it is. But really, he's such a fascinating personality, so versatile."

Harry grimaced. He couldn't imagine anyone speaking highly of Snape, no matter how right they were. But he was willing to make himself see what Hermione meant because he trusted her intuition and perceptiveness. And if she liked Snape then he must be worth her while. Harry didn't know anyone who was a harder judge of character than she, especially after that episode with Lockhart.

Ushering Hermione through the corridors and hallways, Harry talked to her about less interesting things. Both knew that the portraits at the walls listened to everything the students said. It was too dangerous to discuss things like the DA right now. Still, there was enough to talk about, for example that Snape had taken three hundred points from Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson, and why.

"He didn't!" Hermione gasped. "That's awful for Slytherin! How did Blaise and Malfoy take it?"

"Malfoy didn't do anything. I guess he's used to losing points because of them now," replied Harry. "But I don't think he'll leave Crabbe and Goyle unscathed. Blaise was rather shocked. I mean, it was Snape who took the points, after all. We never lost so many points in one go." He glanced at Hermione. "At least not because we were lazy."

Hermione remained silent. They rounded a corner and stepped out into the open, leaving the dungeons behind. The moving staircases seemed to rest so Harry and Hermione made use of the opportunity and hurried up the stairs, trying not to wake the stairs. A lot of the portraits that were covering every inch of the walls were snoring and muttering quietly in their sleep.

They arrived at the entrance portrait without difficulties for once. The stairs kept sleeping and no teacher was out and confronting them. Hermione knocked at the portrait frame of the Fat Lady until she blinked awake and was able to listen to the password and let them in.

"Y'should really get back sooner," mumbled the Fat Lady in a disgruntled voice. "Those kids and their detentions nowadays, it's a shame …"

"As if I _begged_ for that detention!" hissed Hermione irritably. After Harry had climbed through the hole Hermione slammed the portrait shut much harder than necessary.

"Ouch!" the Fat Lady complained. "You girls are getting ruder every year!"

"We girls are adjusting to your behaviour!" yelled Hermione back.

"I'm beat, 'Mione," said Harry, hiding his smile. "I'm going to bed, and you should too. It was a long night."

Hermione growled in response but hugged Harry obligingly when he held his arms open. She really was the only girl he understood and most likely ever would.

"Good night, Harry," said Hermione quietly. "Sorry for giving you so much grief because of Snape."

"Don't worry about _that_," replied Harry with a smirk. "After all, it seems like a natural crush to me."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "What are we, Harry, seven years old?"

"Alright, alright," said Harry, laughing. "You're no fun, 'Mione."

"You really must be tired," retorted Hermione, smirking at Harry, "if you imagine me having a crush on Snape of all people." She turned to go, but not without patting his head. "Sleep well, Harry."

"Sleep well yourself, 'Mione," said Harry affectionately.

He watched her go up to the girls' dorm. She was so small and fragile and yet she was so strong, holding everything together. More than ever Harry was determined to take some work from her. It was not fair to let her do so much while he still had the capacity to do so. The same went for Ron and the other boys. Even Lavender and Parvati, who were already covering part of the classes for the DA, had a bit more to give.

When she was gone he also went up to his dorm to retire for the night. It was almost twenty minutes past midnight.

The other boys were already sleeping when he entered the room. Harry hurried to wash his face and brush his teeth. He was suddenly so tired and exhausted, he wanted nothing more than sleep. He jumped into his bed, closed the curtains and snuggled into the freshly washed covers. Dobby was an angel, always spoiling them like this. At the Dursleys' he'd never had so much as a tattered blanket. He knew exactly what he had with Hogwarts.

Sighing happily, he buried his nose even deeper into the jasmine-scented fabrics and slipped into a heavy sleep.

-----------

Harry seriously considered skipping Transfiguration when he was woken by the noise his dorm mates made. The morning was unusually chilly – Harry was shivering under his comforter. Seamus and Dean, however, were awake and arguing about the homework for Hagrid. Seamus had done it decently for a change and Dean accused him of copying it from Blaise.

"I did no such thing!" said Seamus indignantly. "If you must know, not everything we do has to do with snogging."

"Ha, as if I'd believe that," replied Dean.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Ron asked grumpily from the doorway that led to the bathroom.

"I find it disgusting that Seamus is copying homework from his boyfriend," said Dean angrily. "Because Blaise is much better in Care of Magical Creatures than he is!"

"That's not true. Besides, you get help from Ginny in Charms every time," snapped Seamus back. "We all know you're a walking disaster with your wand!"

"Stop yelling," groused Ron, slamming the bathroom door. "You sound like old hags, really."

Dean and Seamus blushed, both chastised enough to keep their tongues until Ron and Harry were dressed and out of the room for breakfast.

"I can't believe them," grumbled Ron when they entered the Great Hall. "Bickering like a pair of four years old."

Harry bit his tongue; it would be rather contra-productive for this rare show of maturity to remind Ron of his own bouts of senseless bickering with Hermione.

Students greeted them left and right and Harry saw even Cho smile tentatively at him, but Ron pulled him away. He apparently was in a testy mood and didn't tolerate girls too well. He even snarled at Ginny when she asked him to make a bit room for Dean who would come a bit later.

"What's up with him?" Hermione asked when she sat down a bit later.

"I guess he didn't sleep too well," Harry answered truthfully. He jabbed Ron into the ribs. "Oi, Ron, what's the matter with you this morning?"

Ron grunted into his milk. "Don't ask, mate."

Just then the owls started to fly through the owl window under the roof of the Great Hall and dropped the mail off. Papers slammed onto the breakfast table, hitting plates and tipping glasses. Several forks and knives were clattering to the floor, startling students out of their sleepiness.

Ron grabbed Hermione's Daily Prophet and opened it. His face was as grim as they had never seen it before, and with a low grumble Ron confirmed what he had obviously already known.

"Read this, Harry. Umbridge now officially talks about her plans to reform the school system in England," said Ron with a bitter voice.

Hermione pushed Harry aside and almost into Neville's bowl of oatmeal to read the article.

"Ah!" she screeched. "That old bint is really _begging_ for it, isn't she?" She slammed her hand onto Umbridge's simpering face, covering her toady face with her palm.

Harry recovered from the attack and sat back up, glaring at Hermione. Unfortunately it had little effect on her since she was still glaring at the picture of Umbridge. It tried to look out behind her hand to sneer at them, but with only marginal success.

"What does the paper say?" Seamus asked. He leaned curiously over Ron and tried to read the small letters. "Ugh, it has to do with Umbridge, that can't be pretty."

"It isn't," said Hermione in a haughty voice. "She wants to come back to Hogwarts. This hogwash about wanting to reform our school system can only mean that she's ready to strike again. We must be prepared, and soon. We need to call an emergency meeting but Harry has lessons with Snape tonight."

"Call the meeting," cut Harry in, "you can tell me everything later. The DA needs to be prepared, that's the most important thing."

"Okay," said Hermione. She took the coin from her pocket and charmed the time on it.

Harry watched with faint amusement how several students, scattered throughout the Great Hall, looked startled and then dug through their pockets to find the fake galleon. Sneaky glances and nods followed.

"We will meet at three o'clock you-know-where," said Hermione. "Harry, you can come until your lessons start. We will need you for tactics and stuff."

"I'll leave the tactics to Ron," replied Harry, looping an arm around Ron's miserable form. "That'll take his mind off of Umbridge."

"I'll write to Fred and George, together with Katie," Angelina offered. She had just been passing by when Hermione had charmed the galleons and jumped at the opportunity to help. "They will be glad to help, you know that."

"I'll write to Charlie and Bill," said Ron glumly.

"Excellent," said Hermione smugly. "Now what about a decent breakfast? We have a long day ahead of us."

The others nodded and everybody went to eat their breakfast. Hedwig sailed in and nicked some ham from Harry's toast, all the while hooting animatedly at him. Pig joined her, and soon the whole Gryffindor table was laughing about the fluttering, squabbling owls.

Half an hour later they sat in their seats and waited for Professor McGonagall to start the lesson. She limped into the room, heavily leaning on her walking stick.

Harry, Ron and the others looked at her with sympathy. Lavender got up and closed the door and Parvati rushed to pull a chair out for McGonagall.

Instead of snapping at them as she would have undoubtedly done with a lesser injury she just looked sternly at them.

"Good morning, class," she said in her dry voice. "It came to my attention that Dolores Umbridge will attempt to _reform_ our school system, again." Her glare intensified and settled on Harry, then Ron, and then Hermione before it swerved away to scrutinise several other students. "Headmaster Dumbledore wants you all to know that he will do his best to keep Umbridge out of Hogwarts."

Harry raised his hand, along with Hermione.

"Yes, Potter?"

"What will Professor Dumbledore do, in case Umbridge actually comes back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked boldly. "Last time Umbridge succeeded in getting him out of the school."

McGonagall smiled thinly at that. "I didn't expect less from you, Potter. Well, Professor Dumbledore will do his best to defend Hogwarts and everything it stands for against Umbridge. How, I don't know yet, but he'll certainly manage, now that he knows about her ways."

"And Fudge's," muttered Hermione not too quietly.

McGongall's smile grew wider; she actually looked approving. "And Minister Fudge's, Miss Granger." She looked once more at the assembled class. "Professor Dumbledore is already making plans and I expect you to do your best to face that new threat."

"You can count on us," said Seamus grimly. "We got her out of Hogwarts once, and we'll do it again."

"I expected she'd be stupid enough to try something like this again," said Hermione disdainfully.

"Just not so soon," added Ron.

McGonagall nodded. "I'm glad to hear that. Now, we have a lot of work to do. Open your books at page one hundred and thirty. Today we'll start with a higher level transfiguration."

The students opened their books and listened as Professor McGonagall explained how to transfigure wands into other objects, and how to reverse the spell. Especially Harry and Hermione were interested in that topic. Harry found it interesting how deeply connected a wizard was to his wand, and what exactly they could do without it.

After that lesson they had Care of Magical Creatures and for the first time in two weeks they were allowed outside again. Hagrid led them out of the front gates of Hogwarts towards his hut, along the furrow he had obviously dug earlier.

"Wonderful, we are crawling through the snow," said Pansy haughtily when she brushed clumps of snow off her robes and cloak. "If I get sick from this ordeal you'll hear from my father."

Hermione levelled her with an icy stare. "If you get sick, it'll be because you weren't dressed accordingly for class," she replied.

Hagrid cleared his throat. "Students, terday we'll work with Shownies. Does anybody know what 'ey are?"

Unsurprisingly, Hermione raised her hand and started talking. "Shownies are magical creatures that resemble small horses. They look almost like Shetland Ponies, only that they have large dog ears that allow them to hear the members of their herd over great distances."

Hagrid smiled. "Right. Do yer know if 'ey 'ave magical properties?"

"Of course. Shownies live in herds from ten to twenty individuals. They always have a black one in the herd. The black Showny draws the magical properties of plants and certain minerals into their body by eating them. With these magical powers it can heal members of the herd when they're injured or sick," said Hermione in her best lecturing voice. "The white Shownies show the black Showny where to find these plants and protect it from enemies, like Sandwolves or lynxes."

Malfoy raised his hand, clearly annoyed by Hermione's explanations. "Granger forgot to mention the exceptional ability of Shownies to smell said plants. That's why pharmacies use them as searchers. Shownies make it very easy for them to collect rare medical plants. Potions Masters all over the world resort to Shownies to find them their ingredients as well. In Germany there even is a company that trains Shownies for that purpose. These Shownies can find a large number of different plants by command."

"Very good, Malfoy, Hermione," said Hagrid happily. "Five points ter each of yer."

Malfoy and Hermione glared at each other. Harry hid his smirk behind his hand whereas Ron was outright scowling. Then Malfoy's glare caught Harry but he refused to be intimidated. It wasn't his fault that Snape had sent him back yesterday night. His raised chin apparently told Malfoy as much because he stopped his staring and turned back to Blaise.

"I managed ter get a few Shownies from a friend, he works with 'em in Germany. 'ese are fine animals, I tell yer!" Hagrid boomed happily. "Divide in groups an' take one Shownie each."

Harry, Hermione, Ron and Seamus formed a group. Seamus hastily went to get them a Shownie; mainly because Blaise was standing there and picking one, too. Harry watched as they sneaked a short squeeze of hands and a smile before each of them went back to their respective groups, tugging a white Showny on their bridle with them.

Hagrid walked around the groups and assigned whatplants they should find.

"The Shownies have been trained in Germany," said Hermione after Hagrid was gone. "I bet we have to tell it the German name of the plant."

"Our plant is the mandragora," said Seamus doubtfully. "Do you know the German name?"

"It's _Mandragora_ or _Alraune_," said Hermione immediately.

Harry petted the beast's neck and nose, ruffling its thick mane and pulling playfully on the long ears. "It's cuddly," he said when Ron and Seamus looked at him strangely.

"_Finde_ _die_ _Alraune_," said Hermione in German.

"Why does she always know what to do?" Ron asked with dismay at Hermione's knowledge. "Since when can you speak German?"

"I read the chapter in our textbook, Ron," said Hermione in annoyance. "If you would just _read_ every now and then! I got the line in the book. Everybody could have known, honestly!"

The Showny snorted softly and started to trot forward, in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Harry, Ron, Seamus and Hermione followed quickly though not without complaining.

"Whoa, slow down, pal," said Ron when the Showny started to trot faster. He was the one holding it on its bridle. "Harry, do we have to go in there?"

"If we want good grades we have to," replied Harry sympathetically. He knew that Ron was still fearing the Forbidden Forest because of Aragog and his family.

"During winter mandragoras sleep deep in the ground," panted Hermione. She jumped deftly over a thick root. Seamus behind her cursed heartily – he had stumbled over it, falling face first into the snow. "I wonder if the Showny will really find one."

After some more minutes the Showny suddenly stopped and sniffed the ground, shoving snow away from a particular place. Harry hastily cleaned the ground from the snow and looked at the bare spot of dark soil.

"How the hell are we supposed to dig the mandragora out of there?" he asked. "The ground is too hard, and I don't know any spells for digging."

Ron smirked. "How good that you have me, really. Mom made me turn over the beds of her garden during the holidays all the time, so Bill told me a spell to do it."

"You can't do magic at home until you turn seventeen," said Hermione, frowning.

"I didn't do it," said Ron smugly. "I asked dad if he could help me out and he did."

"Cool, then we can at least loosen up the earth," said Seamus, visibly relieved that they wouldn't have to dig through stone-hard soil.

Ron pulled his wand out and said the spell. The soil turned itself over and over, until the patch was completely loose. Harry, Hermione and Seamus immediately set to work and levitated the dirt away.

"Ah, there it is!" crowed Hermione triumphantly. She put her wand away and tugged at the bundle of leaves that peeped out of the hole. "Help me pull it out!" she snapped at the boys when nobody moved.

Harry jumped into the hole and pulled hard, ripping the sleeping mandragora from its resting place. The thing was small and even uglier than its older siblings they had seen in their second year; the only good point was that it was sleeping deeply and therefore not able to screech at them.

"_Ewww_," said Ron whole-heartedly.

Harry could only agree. He wrapped the root in his cloak and together they hurried back to the place in front of Hagrid's hut. Thankfully the whole task hadn't taken them longer than forty minutes, including the walk into the Forbidden Forest and back out.

Arriving at the hut, Harry brought the Showny back into the paddock where he patted it one last time as thanks. Then he and his friends went to Hagrid, showing him their find.

"Ah, wonderful, 'Arry, wonderful. Madam Sprout will be very glad ter have a new one," he said in his gruff voice. "Yer know, she might need it fer yer know what, ter heal people if Yer-Know-Who attacks some day …" He stuffed the still sleeping mandragora into a pot and covered it with soil.

"I doubt that Voldemort will attack with another Basilisk," said Hermione critically, "but a mandragora really has some interesting properties …"

"Don' say his name!" hissed Hagrid, dropping the sack with soil and spilling half of it. "Oh, darn!"

"Spare me!" hissed Ron at the same time, covering his frozen ears with his hands. "Lalala, I can't hear you!"

Seamus looked at Ron as if he'd gone crazy. Harry just shook his head and cleaned the mess with a short spell.

"You lazy sod," said Hermione quietly, obviously hurt that Ron had cut her off so brutally. "It wouldn't hurt you to listen sometimes when somebody says something useful."

The rest of the double lesson passed in peace, albeit rather forcedly. Other than Pansy's fit of anger because of Malfoy's continued staring at Harry nothing happened. When Hagrid finally released them, Harry and Hermione raced up to the castle to change their clothes and shoes. Every Friday it was a mad run to get to Snape's class in time.

In his dorm Harry put on fresh trousers, sneakers and his cloak. The wet clothes would be taken care of by Dobby, thankfully. Harry grabbed his things for Potions and left the dorm in a haste. Hermione came rushing down the stairs of the girls' dorm as well, looking quite hectic. The big clock over the entrance hole showed that they were going to be late if they didn't sprint now.

"Damn Potions," cursed Harry when they ran down the stairs.

"Damn timetable," added Hermione, gasping to keep up with Harry.

One stairway obviously found it funny to change the direction while they stood on it. Cursing even more colourfully, Harry and Hermione changed their plan and hurried down another corridor, not willing to waste even more time with the stairs.

Harry had spent a lot of time studying the Marauders' Map and knew where the most effective shortcuts were and how to get to a place that was hidden within the walls of Hogwarts. It was not a problem for him to find another way down to the dungeons.

He sped down another dark corridor that looked as if nobody had walked through it for quite some time, Hermione hot on his heels. In such matters she trusted him, especially when they didn't have many other choices if they didn't want to be terribly late for Snape's class.

They made it to the classroom only four minutes late. Snape looked at their flushed and sweaty faces and sneered at them, ordering them crisply to take a seat. He didn't take points, though, just droned on about the new assignment. Luna, Hannah, Ernie and Terry all sneaked a glance at Harry and Hermione and smiled slightly. Especially Luna seemed more amused than anxious and it calmed Harry in an inexplicable way.

Blaise leaned closer to Harry when he was seated. "Wow, you came here awfully quickly; Crabbe and Goyle jinxed the stairway to set you down into a totally wrong corridor."

Harry growled. "They'll pay for that."

Chuckling, Blaise said, "Oh, well, McGonagall already docked twenty points off of them for that and maybe they got even more detention."

Harry was close to banging his head against the table. "How could they want that?" he whispered. Crabbe and Goyle had had detention for every evening for a fortnight already and would have it for another one. "And how do you stand them losing your house points?"

"Pansy," said Blaise simply. He stroked over Harry's thigh in a soothing motion and smiled.

"Mr Zabini," said Snape frostily from the front of the classroom, "would you be so kind and get the ingredients already? We haven't got all day, in case you hadn't noticed." He looked from one student to the next, practically burning them with his glare. "And you other incompetent morons, too. It's appalling how much you lack interest for this particular subject."

Blaise blushed beet red and hurried to get the ingredients which Snape had already laid out on his close by worktable. Harry busied himself with setting their things on the table. Malfoy next to Luna turned around and glared at Harry. Harry looked back and blushed at the accusing stare. This was getting way out of hand, it was high time that Malfoy got his scarf back. And Harry didn't even care how anymore.

During the lesson Harry and Blaise worked quietly together, only whispering when they needed to time the addition of an ingredient. Luna and Malfoy were rather quiet, too, which seemed to be a miracle in this class. Harry noticed how skilled Luna was at slicing and dicing, though, and Malfoy must have noticed as well, otherwise he wouldn't be so content to work with her.

The shrill ring of the bell finally ended the class. Snape told them to clean their tables and cauldrons after they had handed him their vials with the lesson's work. They obviously couldn't vanish too quickly from his lab.

"'Mione, you can go ahead, I need to talk to someone first," said Harry when they left the classroom.

"Are you crazy?" she replied with an incredulous look on her face. "I bet you want to talk to Malfoy, and we can't have that now. We have an emergency meeting and you promised that you'd be there. You can talk to him later, now come, I'm hungry."

Hermione grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him mercilessly away, in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry turned around, looking helplessly at Blaise and Terry but both only smirked.

"But 'Mione, it's important!" protested Harry indignantly when Hermione wouldn't let go of his arm.

"I know, and I don't care right now," said Hermione determinedly, "we have other things to do first before you can go and play with him."

"It's sounds really wrong if you say it like that," pouted Harry, now trudging along after her.

"It's supposed to," she said with a sweet smile.

They seated themselves at their house table and started eating as soon as they had stowed their bags under their seats. Hermione was really in a hurry; she almost forced Harry to gobble his food down at top speed, and then she dragged him back to Gryffindor Tower where she told him to change and get the things he'd need for their meeting.

Harry felt like a seven year old again and hated it. He knew that the meeting _was_ important, they would discuss Umbridge's plan more in depth after all. But he felt as if Hermione was trying to take over his life and he couldn't stand it. He didn't mind so much that she actually worked more for the DA than he did, but this dragging about through the school was getting on his nerves, and badly.

Harry scowled. Wasn't it _his_ business if he wanted to talk to Malfoy? And when? And what about?

The more he thought about it the worse it got, and so he decided to let it go for today. He would start his fight for more independence later; right now he had students to greet that came one by one into the Room of Requirement and looked at him expectantly.

After a few minutes everybody was there, the room was locked and the emergency meeting started. Harry as the leader immediately started to explain what he and his friends had come up with to make Umbridge's life as difficult as possible should she be the same annoying person that she was before her little trip into the Forbidden Forest and to the herd of angry, murderous centaurs.

The whole thing had a funny touch to it. Harry truly felt like eleven again, making all sorts of ridiculous plans to put out their most hated teacher. He also ordered everybody explicitly to stick to their plans and get through with them if things got dire. Harry wouldn't stand for new scarred hands or other, even less pleasant disfigurements. What Umbridge had done to him and Lee and some others was a cruelty without comparison. She would pay for that, and pay dearly, of that they were sure.

After that, Hermione held a short and awe-inspiring speech about student rights and last, but not least, Ron read a letter from Fred and George in which they promised again that they'd supply them with everything necessary, listing the finest of their inventions for the DA's use.

When the official part was done, loud chattering broke out and the DA scattered in smaller groups, already forming units and discussing ways to get under Umbridge's skin as successful as possible.

Hermione was writing the rules for handling Umbridge into their logbook so they wouldn't forget them. Theyweren't so much rules as outright self-made permissions to do mischief, but it still felt great to have decided upon these authorisations. It would make many members of the DA feel better about breaking the rules of Hogwarts.

"Wow, that was a great pep talk," said Cho, suddenly appearing next to Harry and sounding quite breathless. "It was wonderful. Now I feel as if I could really lead her on."

"Well, we _will_ lead Umbridge on," said Hermione crisply from her hunched position. "Why do you think we're planning all this?" She slashed a last letter on the page and then slammed the logbook shut.

Cho winced but straightened herself quickly. "Well, what am I supposed to think? This is my last year, my NEWT-year, and if Umbridge stays longer than we expect then I'll have a serious problem if she catches me red-handed."

Hermione's scornful face softened a bit when Cho mentioned her NEWTS; Harry could only roll his eyes. It was so easy to catch Hermione's attention sometimes.

"Besides, I'm not sure if I'll have the time to help you at all, with all the studying I still have to do," Cho continued meekly, looking guiltily at Harry.

Once more Harry was ensnared with how pretty Cho was. Her long, dark, sleek hair framed her round, pretty face, and her rosy, pouty lips glistened when she licked them nervously. Her almond-shaped, dark eyes looked at him from under lowered lashes, the same lashes that had been wet with tears last Christmas …

Cho, obviously encouraged by Harry's staring, stepped a bit closer. "I'll help you every way I can, Harry, you know I will," she said softly.

"Like hell you will," said Angelina rudely, stepping up to Harry's left side. "If you wanted to help us you wouldn't be having this conversation. You're a coward, Chang, your grades are more important to you than our pride or right for decent schooling." Her tone was downright condescending.

Alicia appeared at Harry's right side, flanking him as well. "You know you just have to say it and you can leave the DA," she said with a sneer, "but as I remember correctly you decided against that not long ago."

"Yes, it would be nice to have a final decision from you," said Hermione warningly. "The DA is not a kindergarten, and certainly no club to cultivate secret rebellious urges. Either you really wish to help us or you leave. We are better off without you if you're not fully in it."

Cho looked for a second or so as if she wanted to argue, but then she just looked up into Harry's face, looking miserable and pleading. Harry prepared himself for tears yet again, knowing that he couldn't deal with them, no matter what. The whole scenario was unreal enough as it was.

"I _do_ want to be in the DA," said Cho in a choked voice. "I like learning new spells and shields and charms, but this is important for me, too! I just want to finish school in peace; my parents would kill me if I get expelled because I opposed the Ministry." She grabbed Harry's hands, causing him to flinch away. Cho didn't let go, though. "You understand me, don't you, Harry?"

Sighing, Harry stepped back and freed his hands from Cho's grasp. Her fingers were clammy, desperate.

"Yeah, I do," he said calmly, "but I for my part have put up with enough of Umbridge's shit and I won't have it anymore. A world with Umbridge in it in any way, shape or form is not acceptable for me. I'll do all the things necessary if she comes after me again." He looked sternly at her doll like, pretty face. "Most of us have nothing to lose anyway. If you have, then it's better you leave so she won't associate you with us."

Cho sobbed and hid her face in her hands. Michael Corner, who had been lurking nearby, was coming closer, glaring accusingly at Harry.

"Do you _have_ to make her cry, Potter?" he asked angrily.

"Why do you always make me choose, Harry?" Cho sobbed, her voice thick with sorrow and anguish.

"Because it's yay or nay in this club," said Harry quietly. "You have second thoughts and that's okay, but I can't accept an undecided position. First of all I have to keep the DA safe from Umbridge, and for that I need all the support I can get. And it's almost certain that the first thing she'll do will be to try and find out if we're still training in secret."

"Just decide, Chang, we haven't got all afternoon," said Katie a lot more impatiently than Harry had been.

Cho wiped her tears away, straightened her posture and looked directly into Harry's eyes. "Well, if you make me choose at wandpoint I choose my NEWTs. I'm so sorry, Harry, but my parents would really kill me, and I can't afford to lose a year or the proposition I've already got for after Hogwarts." Her voice quavered slightly. "But it's a good plan, really, and I'll try to help as much as I can."

Harry was distracted by Katie showing the victory-sign behind Cho's back and Michael Corner's predictable reaction to that, and thus didn't see it coming.

Thankfully Cho only pecked him on the cheek and not the mouth. Blushing hotly and feeling very uncomfortable, Harry wished Cho luck for her NEWTs. He didn't even look after her when she left the Room of Requirement.

It surprised no one when Michael Corner followed her out shortly after, although not just a few were surprised that Zacharias Smith actually stayed behind.

Blaise went up to Harry and cuddled him comfortingly in a warm embrace. "Well, that could have gone worse," he said lightly. "It was high time something happened. I'm just surprised that she left without making much of a fuss. I expected more yelling and screaming."

"Ha, ha," sighed Harry unhappily. "We lost two members today, that's not funny."

"No, it's not," admitted Blaise, petting Harry's back soothingly, "but at least the DA is now free of disturbing, opposing forces. Which means we'll get more done."

"Which is nice, I know." Harry sighed again and then looked at the big grandfather clock in the faraway corner. "Oh, it's almost time for dinner, anyway. I think we should finish the meeting and go down to the Great Hall."

Blaise agreed and released Harry in favour of his boyfriend who kissed him jealously on the mouth before leaving the Room of Requirement first, with Blaise on his arm. Other students followed in small groups, still talking and laughing about the new plans.

Hermione and Ron went together because Ron was already complaining about being hungry. Katie, Alicia and Angelina, however, were staying behind, glancing surreptitiously at the last stragglers, namely Luna who was picking up the odd item here and there again and Parvati and Lavender who had interestedly followed the scene.

"Keep clear of that Chang," said Angelina disdainfully when the room was almost empty. "She's still after you, the little creep. Have you seen her looking at you?"

Harry was absolutely speechless. This was a glimpse in the girls' world as he'd never wished to have it. Dumbly he shook his head.

"I thought so," said Katie. "Merlin, I'd rather see you with, say, Malfoy than her, and that's saying something. She's a good actor, though."

"Actor?" Harry asked, utterly confused.

"Actor," confirmed Alicia. "She can cry on command. It's common knowledge in Ravenclaw. I bet she did it all the time to make you feel guilty for dumping her."

Harry was appalled that the girls thought Cho capable of doing such a thing. In his book she was just overly emotional. It didn't make the matter better, but at least he didn't feel cheated, thinking like this.

"It doesn't matter," he said, feeling stupid and not knowing why. "It's over and done with her. I don't even like her anymore. Actually I'm glad she left."

"Good boy," said Angelina gravely. "We really just want to warn you, Harry. She's a little beast and I'd rather not see your heart broken by someone like her."

Alicia nodded in agreement. Together, the three girls made to leave the room. When Katie passed Harry by she whispered quietly, "I'd really rather see you with Malfoy." Her saucy wink caused Harry to blush badly, and he cursed Katie for her dirty thoughts.

Thankfully the hallways down to the Great Hall were deserted and he had a few minutes to himself to think about Cho and what she had said.

Harry didn't really know how to handle the situation. On the one hand he could see why Alicia, Angelina and Katie were telling him to stay clear of Cho, on the other hand he really couldn't believe that she was such a horrible person, trying to get to him with faked tears. And least of all he could imagine why she would want to do that. And then that stupid, completely unnecessary kiss.

Tiredly he stepped into the Great Hall and sat down next to Ron. For a few moments he just put his face in his hands and breathed deeply. Why did everything have to be so difficult? Why couldn't everything be simple and easy to understand?

"You have to eat something," said Hermione concernedly. "Have at least a bit of the soup. Snape won't go easy on you."

Harry filled his bowl to pacify her but couldn't bring himself to eat all of it. His head was heavy with thoughts of Cho and he wished he could just wipe his mind blank. Ginny and some other girls threw him sympathetic glances and whispered amongst each other, occasionally looking over at the Ravenclaw table.

Not being able to stand the company of his friends any longer, Harry got up and left. It was probably for the best, so he had more time to clear his mind and put his memories into the Pensieve. The last thing he wanted was for Snape to find out about his stupid girl-issues.

In his dorm, Harry took off Malfoy's scarf and flung it on the bed. The week would be just perfect if it got damaged somehow.

Sighing, he sat on his bed and pulled one memory after the other into his Pensieve. Thinking of the kisses from both Malfoys didn't do more to him than make him smile sardonically. He had the feeling that nothing could really shock him now.

When everything he wanted to hide was placed in the Pensieve he felt numb and strangely at ease. Harry got to his feet and slowly left Gryffindor Tower.

He made his way down to the dungeons. He would face Snape, and he would show him that he was capable of working for his goals. And that he was capable of proving his point.

A sinister smirk curved around Harry's lips. This night would definitely be interesting.

--------

Saturday morning came too early in Harry's opinion. He was woken up by the glaring sun; it seemed it had finally triumphed over the ever present, oppressing clouds.

Harry risked a glance outside the dusty window of the dorm and smiled happily. The sky had a beautiful colour, a fragile light blue, and not a single cloud was in sight. It seemed as if the horizon was miles and miles away, and Harry was awestruck with the vastness of it all. Maybe, if he wanted, he could mount his Firebolt and fly and fly until he was too exhausted to grip the handle of the broom any longer, and still he wouldn't have reached the other end of the world.

This, however, reminded him of Sirius' and Remus' trip to Hogwarts. Several days had passed and he had a feeling that they should be arriving soon. He missed Sirius and Remus, and he wanted to tell them that they were doing fine and working hard.

Suddenly Harry wasn't tired anymore. In fact, he was bursting with energy, and he wanted to do something. A look at his dorm mates, however, confirmed that whatever he wanted to do he'd have to do alone. It was barely eight in the morning, much too early for Ron and the others. Even Hermione would still be sleeping, catching up on the rest she'd missed during the week.

Humming, Harry traipsed to the bathroom. He showered quickly and brushed his teeth, and then he dressed in one of his favourite new shirts, jeans and a thick cloak. When he was done he grabbed his wand, put his memories back in his head where they belonged and left the dorm for the Room of Requirement.

It turned out that he had way too much excess energy to work it off with simple training. Dobby pampered Harry with breakfast and offered to help him train, but after a while even the House Elf could see that this was going nowhere.

Harry had nearly cast every spell he knew, with and without wand and even silently, and still he felt strangely giddy and restless. It was as if something important was to happen soon, something good, something he should be looking forward to. His last resort was actually to relax and Ground and Centre before he would work himself into a state.

Harry easily fell into trance. Occlumency had really helped him a great deal in this, not that Harry would have expected it with Snape as teacher. But even thinking about his lessons with Snape couldn't dampen his good mood.

He called upon the elements and built his circle. The air around him vibrated with energy, and Harry felt it skitter along his skin, tickling him playfully.

Harry proceeded to ask the elements to take his energy and clean it. It was futile! Even Hogwarts was brimming with positive feelings, as if the castle itself awaited something important, something good.

Still, Harry accepted the energy it offered and basked in the outright happiness that gripped him like an affectionate embrace. He was happy too, wondering what could be so good that even the old stones of Hogwarts were humming like this.

After a while Harry loosened the connection and thanked the elements and whoever had been there too for their help. The feeling didn't vanish completely. It rather seemed to reside on the edges of Harry's consciousness, teasing him with sparks and jittery feelings. Harry sighed in pleasure. Today was a strange day, but he liked it. He was glad that there was joy left in this war-marred world, and that he was allowed to take part in it.

On his way down to the Great Hall Harry met Luna. She took one look at him, Harry stared back, and for a second he could see the power in the girl's dreamy eyes. Luna practically glowed with it, it came off her in warm waves that made Harry shudder in delight.

"You feel it, too," said Luna calmly, oddly clearly.

"Yes," said Harry. "It's beautiful."

Luna smiled. She took Harry's much larger hand in hers. No sparks passed as Harry had half expected. Instead, the warm feelings he got from only being in her presence were flowing right into him, magnified tenfold.

"_She_ is in a very good mood," said Luna softly. "I'm glad you can feel it, it's a great gift. _Her_ blessings are everywhere, in the air, in the stones, in the light and in every clump of dust." Her eyes shone with tears, and, oddly, Harry didn't feel threatened at all. "I talked to _Her_ this morning and told _Her_ of our problem. _She_ promised to help."

Harry's throat constricted. He had understood enough about Wicca to know that the Goddess didn't speak to everybody, and that it was a great favour Luna was experiencing. He could understand her completely, to feel so full of life and energy that it was too much to bear. Harry didn't have that feeling often in his life, so he cherished the few moments he had.

"That's great," he whispered. He squeezed Luna's small hand and snickered at the tickling spark of energy that ran over his palm.

Together they walked to the Great Hall to have breakfast. It was after eleven o'clock so a lot of students were on their way, too. Many looked at Harry and Luna shrewdly, no doubt thinking the wrong things. Harry was used to rumours. He was in too good of a mood to feel disturbed, and when he saw Ron and Hermione already sitting there, saving him a seat, he invited Luna to sit with them at the Gryffindor table.

"Morning!" he greeted cheerfully when he and Luna sat down. "I hope you don't mind?"

"Of course not," replied Hermione. "Luna, you look … well, good." She scrutinised Luna intently but obviously couldn't put her finger on the source of Luna's improved looks.

Luna smiled. "Thanks. I think that's my new hair treatment."

Harry stifled a laugh and hurried to put eggs and beans on his plate. A puzzled Hermione was too funny, especially when he already was in a good mood.

Ron grabbed a sausage and bit into it. "Where were you, Harry? I thought you'd be useless after Snape's lesson and crash until our meeting this afternoon." He didn't say anything about Luna's company for which Harry was grateful.

"Oh, I really wasn't," said Harry and smirked. "I held my own quite well last night, I'd say."

"Oh, no," sighed Hermione, "I hope Snape won't be beastly tonight. I wanted to ask him-"

"Well, well, what do we have here?" a cold voice interrupted Hermione.

Harry looked up and sure enough, there stood Malfoy, flanked by Pansy and Blaise. Blaise winked at Harry and he smiled back. Pansy, predictably, turned a bright pink and glared at him.

"A bookworm sitting with the know-it-all, how sweet," said Malfoy lowly. "What is this, Potter, your new girlfriend?" He stared at Luna as if she was unworthy to even be looked at.

Something coiled in Harry's body; he could feel it. And, strangely, no anger came at Malfoy's harsh words.

"No, don't worry," he replied flirtatiously instead of angrily. "If I can't have you, nobody else will hold my heart." He smiled at Malfoy and laughed inwardly when he turned pink in a matter of seconds. He was not striving to hurt Malfoy, though. He was too happy to do harm today. The coil in him became tighter.

"Funny, Potter, really funny," hissed Malfoy angrily.

Blaise next to him looked pleadingly at Harry and shook his head slightly. It seemed to be enough; apparently it wasn't the time for that now.

Harry looked Malfoy in his shimmering grey eyes, seeing a speck of silver in them when the sunlight crossed them for a second. Staring into Malfoy's face, Harry noticed the strong jaw, the sharp, almost aquiline eyes that were completed by gracefully arched eyebrows and the perfectly sculpted nose and lips.

Merlin, but Malfoy was _handsome_, Harry thought irrationally and quite shocked. It was the first time that he acknowledged it with complete awareness. He _liked_ what he saw, and this time it was no play to rile Malfoy up. It was real.

A tingle crept through him and the warmth in his body uncoiled suddenly, explosively, leaving Harry rather breathless.

Something in his look must have changed because Malfoy was suddenly nervous and shifted on his feet. "You're nothing more than an uncultivated ogre, Potter," he said tightly, sounding quite insulted.

"Sorry, Malfoy," said Harry, cursing himself for it a moment later. His blond adversary stared at him, obviously floored by the apology. Pansy's mouth opened and closed silently and Blaise looked to be completely gobsmacked. Actually it was rather funny; Harry wondered if he should've started being nice sooner.

"Well," said Malfoy a lot less menacing than before when he had recovered from the shock, "see that you are." He glanced to his scarf that was lying around Harry's neck. "And do pay your dues!"

"I will," said Harry, smiling cockily at him. He liked how Malfoy blushed yet again and couldn't look him in the eyes any longer. "And next time I'll recite you a sonnet, to show you my appreciation."

Malfoy first blushed a fiery red, only to pale dramatically just a second later.

Pansy, along with everybody else who was sitting around Harry, took a sharp breath and then Pansy angrily grabbed Malfoy's arm. The blonde didn't protest when she dragged him off to their own house table. Blaise followed them, but not without looking at Harry sharply.

When they were gone half the table was glancing at him comically. Harry just shrugged, took his fork and started eating his second breakfast with relish.

"A _sonnet_, Harry?" Hermione asked. She smirked. "Is there something we should know?"

"Not yet," said Harry and smirked back. "Obviously I have to prove first that I'm not an ogre."

Ron's mouth was hanging open. "Don't tell me you actually meant that!" he yelped. "Are you trying to make eyes at him? Erk, that's disgusting!"

"I could lend you a book from Shakespeare!" Katie called from the other side of the table. "It has all of Shakespeare's sonnets."

Harry waved at her and grinned. Some students at the other tables laughed, and every now and then a head turned to Harry as the news travelled along the lines of students.

"You really plan to do that?" Hermione asked unbelievingly. "But why?"

"It's fun," said Harry and smiled. "Besides, it's a great reason to learn a Shakespeare sonnet, don't you think?" He put his fork down and stretched luxuriously. "And I really do owe him an apology. I'm rather mean to him when he does nothing to annoy us."

Hermione seemed awestruck for a second. "Wow, that's very mature of you," she finally said. "That's great, Harry."

"And I can't believe it," mumbled Ron around his ham. "Don't let me be present if you really do that. It's atrocious! I mean, a sonnet to Malfoy? That's like casting pearls before swines!"

"As if _you_ would know anything about sonnets," said Ginny snidely from a few seats further down.

Lee Jordan and Alicia Spinnet were getting up and walked past Harry to get to the door. Alicia ruffled Harry's hair briefly and grinned. "I think it's unique. Especially because they can't stand each other. I wonder if Malfoy actually has the nerve to listen to it."

Lee showed a lot of teeth when he also smirked. "Yeah, give it to him, Harry! Maybe we should all do this before our match against Slytherin. I bet they'd be so irritated that we'd win the game easily."

Dean and Seamus chuckled appreciatively.

"Yeah, but we shouldn't overdo it," threw Ginny in, "or else they'll expect to be showered with poetry at all times. We simply _can't_ boost their ego like this."

Harry smirked. "There are only two snakes worthy of poetry, and one is already taken." He smiled warmly at Seamus. "And you got yourself a fine snake, I must say."

Seamus grinned back. "Thanks. I'll do my best to keep it."

Ron made gagging noises and pushed his plate away from him. "You are really disgusting, both of you!"

Harry and Seamus laughed at him merrily, glancing over to Blaise and undoubtedly giving him something to think about.

"Oh, come on, Ron," said Hermione with mock-concern, "it's not so bad. Besides, you should eat some more, after all, lunch is only in two hours. We wouldn't want you to be hungry until then, now would we?"

They bickered back and forth and dragged breakfast out until half past ten. Then the House Elves started clearing the table and the group made their way back to Gryffindor Tower. Once in the common room, Harry proceeded to tell Ron and Hermione how his evening with Snape had gone.

"I practically wiped the floor with him," said Harry. "I don't know why, maybe he was distracted, but I did. And I was also disgustingly polite to him." He waggled his eyebrows. "He really doesn't take well to kindness, I can tell you."

Ron leered. "So we should keep it up, you mean?"

Hermione sighed. "The poor man must think we've all gone barmy."

"Who cares?" said Ron and shrugged. "If he can make us miserable with his attitude so can we make him miserable with ours."

Harry smirked. "I think I wore him down well for you, 'Mione. Whatever you want to ask him, do it. I bet he'll cave, if only for the sake of quiet."

"You think so?" Hermione asked doubtfully. "I plan to ask him for some time in his lab, after all."

"You are barmy, too, 'Mione," croaked Ron with a shudder. "Let's talk about something entirely else, please, before I have to throw up."

Harry and Hermione laughed. They dutifully changed the topic and talked about the next meeting of the DA that afternoon and what Harry had planned. The giddiness that had plagued Harry all morning was now getting a hold of his friends, too.

The time was practically flying until lunch. Harry, Ron and Hermione went down to the Great Hall, heatedly discussing spell work. They were joined by their friends who came from all parts of the castle and from outside.

Lunch was a very loud and cheerful affair. Everybody had something to tell. Seamus and Blaise apparently had been out at the lake where they actually had seen some merpeople gliding over the thick ice for fun. Dean and Ginny had discovered the boudoir of a long since gone headmistress of Hogwarts. Their recollection of cobwebs and dust and velvet awed everybody who listened, and not a few were eager to see the room for themselves. Lavender and Parvati had been creeping along the ninth floor, a floor which no student had really explored because it was said to be inhabited by ghouls and other creatures.

"You were up there?" Katie asked, disbelief etched in her voice. "I never would have thought you to be the exploring kind, Parvati!"

Lots of people laughed, and then Parvati straightened her posture and smirked. "Well, then you simply don't know me well enough." She sneaked a not-so-subtle glance at Harry. "I can be a _very_ 'exploring kind' if I want to be."

Some students who had caught her meaning were laughing again. Harry just smiled. He was glad that his friends had fun with each other, and that the students of the different years were sitting together. The lower year students listened with rapt attention and, when the opportunity arose, told their bit of adventure, too.

After lunch Harry put on his warmest pullovers and robes before donning his cloak and Malfoy's scarf. He wanted to get out for a bit; it was the first time in weeks that he was able to stroll over the grounds on his own. The weather was incredibly beautiful, and the sun was glaring through the crisp, clear air.

He wandered over the white, snow-covered lawn, admiring the glittering of the tiny crystals in the sun, and the thin, feathery clouds that stretched in wisps over the otherwise clear blue sky. When he passed by Hagrid's hut he could see the half-giant put some leave buds out for the Garden Gnomes. He waved when Hagrid spotted him but didn't stop to chat.

High on the exceptional beauty of Hogwarts and the day in general, Harry felt his energy thrumming heatedly through his body. He was restless and inspired and actually felt no desire to spend the afternoon inside. Harry wished he had taken his Firebolt outside to take a flight to work off some of the inexplicable restlessness.

Finally, after spending almost two hours in the cold, Harry decided to go back. The meeting was supposed to start soon and he needed to get a hot drink beforehand.

--------

It was hours later that Harry found the peace and quiet to settle back and think a bit. There was so much happening, and so fast. First Rita Skeeter who had made her move, and then Umbridge had openly declared her intentions. And then there still was that unresolved thing between him and the younger Malfoy. Harry sighed. Not that the older one was less disconcerting – on the contrary, he seemed to spin his own webs and wait for things to happen that turned the scales in his favours. Whatever those favours might be.

Cradling a cup of greatly appreciated hot chocolate in his unusually warm hands, Harry stared into the fire of the common room and mulled things over and over. He wasn't only worrying about these things, he was also anxious to find out about Blackadder's ulterior motives; there simply had to be some, nobody could be so loopy on their own, of that Harry was sure.

He leaned his head back against the sofa and smiled. His friends were something, honestly. Halfway through their training the scenery had suddenly changed to resemble the snowy hills of the Hogwarts grounds, and immediately a huge snowball fight had started. Harry and Ron had managed to divide the group in two, each of them leading their team against the other.

It was a new kind of training, and Harry couldn't help but feel happy. It had been great. They all had gone to Madam Pomfrey for some Pepper-up Potion afterwards but nobody honestly cared after such a great afternoon.

Dinner came and Harry forced himself out of the comfortable sofa and went down to the Great Hall. Over the day he had jumped with energy, and now a most satisfying contentment was getting hold of him. The sun had long since settled. The nightly sky was black and littered with billions of tiny, sparkling specks. Watching in awe, Harry spent quite a few minutes by an open window in a corridor. He simply gazed out and relished in the nameless beauty before he moved on to meet his friends.

Even the food was a sensual feast tonight. A lot of Harry's favourites tempted him to overdo it and eat until he got sick. Ron and Hermione laughed about his appetite, and Harry himself wondered how he could be so happy when he had seen his mother die only a few days ago. It was only an old memory, sure, but it had seemed so real, and so sad.

"Well, I have to go now," announced Hermione, slightly fidgety at the prospect of asking Snape for a favour.

"Have fun on your date!" called Seamus.

Hermione blushed. "Will you quit it already? Go snog your boyfriend, you oaf!" With that she stormed off in a swirl of robes and long, bushy hair.

The table roared with laughter, and a passer-by who didn't know better would have thought that they had been drunk. Harry used the commotion to finally talk to Colin and Dennis, mindful not to raise his voice.

"So, do you have some pictures of Hermione?" Harry asked brightly. "I think you had time enough now."

Colin puffed his meagre chest out. "We do. It was quite simple, once we found her pattern out. The best shots are from the library and the common room, although we had some help from Ginny for the more … private ones," he finished delicately.

Dennis handed Harry an envelope. "Each picture has a double, in case you need them."

"Excellent," said Harry. He took the offered envelope, apologised silently to his friend, and put it into an inner pocket of his robes. "Thanks for your help, it's always a pleasure to do business with you."

"Don't mention it," said Colin and looked as if he meant his statement.

He probably did, Harry thought with a certain dark amusement.

"Now that this is over and done with," said Dennis, "we wondered if you've thought about our project, you know, the documentation about you."

Harry stroked his chin thoughtfully, seemingly pondering the question. Finally he smiled. "Oh, yes, and I wondered if you could even make a whole series of it. You know, the people in my life?"

"Great idea!" said Dennis enthusiastically. "With whom do you want to start?"

Harry grinned, shark-like and dangerous. "Oh, I think I want to start with Malfoy. After all, he plays such an important role as my opponent and nemesis, doesn't he?" He leaned forward in a rather intimidating move and glared at the two younger boys. "As I recall you took some nice shots of him and me lately … I'd be much obliged if I could have a closer look at them."

Colin looked as if he wanted to say something, but clearly decided against it and just nodded. Dennis looked ready to pass out on the spot.

"B-but you won't go to McGonagall, right?" Colin said tightly, fearfully. "We kept our end of the bargain. You'll stay true to your word, won't you?"

"Of course," said Harry soothingly. The mischief was wracking him wickedly tonight, and yet he couldn't stop. Or rather, he didn't want to. "But you still need to be punished. I asked you to stop that incessant photographing and yet you continued. The whole affair is simple, really: I get the photos of Malfoy and me in exchange for your miserable lives. I do not take kindly to being ignored, and this is the very least you can do to appease my anger." His face loomed ominously over Colin and Dennis. "And believe me, I was _very_ angry."

The brothers squeaked and nodded hastily.

"Yes, of course! When do you need them?" Dennis asked shakily.

"As soon as possible," replied Harry easily and leaned back. "We wouldn't want those to land in the wrong hands, do we?"

Colin and Dennis shook their heads mutely. Harry was having immense fun with the two, not that they didn't deserve it. He patted his breast pocket that held the pictures of Hermione and smiled winningly.

"Well then, I must be off," he said, "training issues." Harry winked at the two completely stunned boys, pushed himself away from the table, and left the Great Hall, whistling a merry tune he had picked up from Tonks over Christmas.

He had two hours before he had to go down for his patrolling shift so Harry decided to go to the common room to read further in his book about Legilimency. During the last few days he had neglected his studies and had to make up for his lack in both reading and practicing. His attempt to find the link to Voldemort hadn't been a complete waste of his time though, although Harry wondered how he was supposed to be able to get through to Voldemort if the memory was haunting him so awfully.

Sighing, he placed his cloak over the slope of the sofa, snuggled his face into the scarf around his neck and shoulders and opened his book. The crackling fire in the fireplace in front of him helped him relax and come down from his restlessness he was still feeling. It was comfy and soothing. Energy was still twisting through him, nudging him to do something, to use it, but eventually it slowly settled down to a dull, sensual throb that allowed Harry to concentrate on the text in front of him.

Harry barely noticed when people stepped into the common room or out of it. He waved Ron away when he asked him for a game of chess, not looking up. Only when the clock chimed at half past ten Harry blinked and sat up.

"Finally back to the living?" Ron asked good-naturedly and nudged Harry's foot with his own.

"Yeah, I have to go now." Harry made a face. "Rounds without Hermione, what fun."

"Hey, would you turn a blind eye if I run down to the kitchen to get some hot chocolate?" Seamus asked, smiling widely.

"You can ask Dobby at any time," said Harry and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, your excuses to run off to Blaise are getting thinner every time I hear them."

Seamus pouted. "I miss him."

"So you do," retorted Harry and shrugged. "I'm a Prefect, I can't just let you run about the castle after curfew. It would be unfair."

"But Harry," whined Seamus, fluttering his lashes and making puppy-dog eyes.

"I'll start with the seventh floor, so don't even think about it. And stop making eyes at me, it's rather unbecoming on you," said Harry coolly, but he winked.

Seamus grinned and blew Harry a kiss before he dashed upstairs to their dorm.

Contentedly, Harry put his cloak on and sheathed his wand in his left shirtsleeve. Before he went on his way to take over for Hannah and Ernie he asked Ron to take his book upstairs for him.

"Have fun, mate," called Ron cheerfully after him.

Harry smiled at him and then let the portrait of the Fat Lady fall shut behind him.

Torches lit the way down to the Great Hall. It was dark and cold but Harry felt at ease with himself. His body, still undeniably lanky and not half as elegant as when sitting on a broom, strode purposefully through the hall, assessing the dark corners with curiosity and alertness.

Hannah and Ernie were already awaiting him when he arrived. Harry waved at them and relieved them of walking the corridors. Both Hufflepuff Prefects quickly shuffled off to retire for the night, no doubt finding some time to spend together beforehand.

Harry felt quite lonely for a moment before he shook himself out of his morose thoughts and instead begun the long climb up to the seventh floor, marking it done for tonight. Seamus and Blaise deserved the time together, and Harry was not one to begrudge them their happiness.

After he had made sure that the seventh floor was empty, Harry started his descent to the other floors, checking each in a leisure trot. Strange feelings danced over his skin. Harry knew that it was Hogwarts' energy, and he wondered what was up. The closer he got to the ground floor, the stronger it became. It was almost as if …

Harry shook his head in determination. He didn't want to know, not really. Every student knew that the castle had a mind of its own, being full of magic as it was, and surely it was allowed to have some secrets.

Chuckling about his own jumbled and highly silly thoughts, Harry wandered farther, having a good look at the library and throwing two fourth years from Ravenclaw out. He took ten points and sent them off with a stern face that belied his mirth.

Back at Hogwarts' main gate, Harry looked at the great clock. It was quarter to one. Had it really taken him so long? The time didn't seem to pass at all when he was walking through the endless corridors and floors, around corners and through hidden passageways that he only knew because of the Marauders' Map.

"Only another fifteen minutes," Harry whispered to no one. He didn't feel tired at all. He even felt a bit disappointed. Whatever had made him so anxious today hadn't happened. It was a curious feeling. And Hogwarts was still brimming with happy, positive energy that he couldn't explain.

Harry stared at the gigantic door, puzzling about it.

"Well, well, if this isn't Harry Potter, Hogwarts' resident Golden Boy," drawled an amused voice from behind.

Harry spun around, drawing his wand in a millisecond and pointing it at Lucius Malfoy's pale face.

"I didn't expect a farewell committee tonight," the man continued, unperturbed. "Although it's a nice surprise."

Harry floundered to find his ability to speak. While he was thinking quickly he stared at Malfoy, utterly shocked that he could have sneaked up to him so easily. He was feeling very stupid and even more inadequate. His training meant nothing if he was surprised so easily.

Malfoy's lips curled into a smirk when Harry didn't say anything back. "Mr Potter, I know I'm not welcomed here, but please, talk to me. I get the impression that I intimidate you. Surely you wouldn't want that, it's rather unbecoming for your reputation."

Harry shook himself from his stupor. "And I didn't expect to meet _you_ of all people," he said pointedly, still aiming between Malfoy's eyes. "What did you want this time?"

The smirk only widened. "Why, I was visiting my son. His latest letter had me thinking that you made plays at him?"

Harry choked. Malfoy senior was right to the point, how unnerving. "He wrote that? Why, the little ferret-" he ranted hotly. For a second it was easy to forget that the man in front of him was a known Death Eater and out for his blood, no matter how angelic his voice.

"He's not so little anymore, now is he?" Malfoy interrupted softly. "If anything he's outgrown you, Mr Potter." His tone was cool but there was amusement in his pale eyes. "And now I'm most curious as to your reasons to toy with my son's affections."

"There's no love lost between Mal-," he corrected himself in time, considering that it was stupid to call Draco by his last name when his father stood in front of him, "Draco and me. He hates me and I'm just doing it to rile him up." Harry lowered his wand slightly, pointing at Malfoy's chest rather than his face. It was admittedly rude to threaten an unarmed man you are conversing with, after all.

"Hate is such a strong word," Malfoy tutted gently. "You of all people should know that." He stepped closer, idly toying with a strand of his white blond hair. In the golden light of the torches he looked gorgeous. The lines on his face were less visible, although Harry had to admit that the few lines he had pronounced the elder Malfoy's character rather than his age.

"And I expect you know that, too," retorted Harry coldly. "After all, you and your deranged master spent years hating me."

Malfoy stopped dead in his steps and looked at Harry. Just looked. For long moments there was a stony silence between them. Harry trembled from the effort to keep his right hand steady. Cold sweat was breaking on his back and lip, and he felt uneasy. Frightened. Obviously he had gone too far, even though Malfoy seemed to tolerate a lot.

"My master," said Malfoy slowly, menacingly. "Yes, he hates you, with every fibre of his being."

Harry raised his wand again and stepped back. "I won't apologize," he said lowly, straining to keep his wits about him. He remembered the awful, disastrous night at the Ministry of Magic, where he and his friends had been surrounded by Malfoy and his cronies, only a tiny glass sphere between them and a painful death …

Malfoy's eyes glittered. His jaw was firmly set, and for a second he looked as if he wanted to attack as he had tried in Harry's second year.

"I don't expect you to," the blonde said finally, breaking the unbearable tension between them. "You have nothing to apologize for, after all." He took another step towards Harry. "He's a monster and he's deranged, it's only the truth."

Harry was taken by surprise by the soft, murmuring voice and the admission. It hung like a heavy cloud between them. Malfoy's staring made Harry's knees weak and he hated himself for it.

Malfoy was still stepping closer, carefully, slowly, as if to test how close he could get to Harry before he hexed him. As it was, Harry was barely able to breathe. His head swam, and the giddiness from earlier was coming back with a vengeance, slamming into him like a gust of hot air.

Harry lowered his wand, almost involuntarily, as Malfoy approached. He stepped back, one step and then another, and then he bumped into the heavy, wooden door and braced his trembling body against it. He was scared witless and didn't bother to hide it. Right now there was nobody close enough to prevent Malfoy from doing horrible things to him. He had tried to kill him once inside the walls of Hogwarts, maybe he was attempting it again, now that he had the chance.

"Mr Potter, aren't you feeling well?" Malfoy's deceptively concerned voice asked.

Harry tried to watch his back, to scramble away, but to no avail. He was trapped and he knew it. Even his toes curled at the roaring feelings in his body. The anxiety was shooting through him like Pepper Imps. The door behind his back, he imagined feverishly, thrummed excitedly. A moment later he scolded himself. Doors couldn't thrum excitedly because doors weren't alive. And yet it felt exactly like that.

With wide eyes he was watching Malfoy's silent, stalking approach, knowing that something would happen, and that it wouldn't be good. He sighed shakily, trying to resist the weakness and fighting for a more respectful stance. The thrumming increased. Now it even was in the stone beneath his feet. Why wasn't Malfoy drawing his wand? Was he out to strangle him with his bare hands?

Malfoy was close, so close, if he took one more step he would touch Harry. In a ridiculous moment Harry noticed that the man smelled of mallow and jasmine, a light and pleasing scent. In a fleeting move Malfoy leaned his cane against the wall next to Harry.

A cool, ungloved hand, the left one, touched his forehead. "You are a bit warmer than normal," said Malfoy, still not looking concerned at all.

"I'm fine," Harry rasped desperately.

Malfoy's fingers lingered for a bit longer, until they traced the scar on Harry's forehead. Harry felt like fainting at the touch.

"Does it hurt when _He's_ angry?" the blonde asked quietly. He stared intently at the scar, as if trying to figure out how this could be possible.

"Does your Mark hurt?" Harry asked feebly back, stubbornly raising his chin.

Malfoy let his hand fall back to his side. He was looking at Harry again, looking like _that_, appraising him.

"I understand," said Malfoy. He proceeded to put his glove back on.

Harry recovered, now that the burning gaze was taken from him for the moment, and looked at the bare hand. It was covered in thin scars, just as he had seen in his dream. He opened his mouth to say something, but, not knowing what he should possibly say, closed it again after a second.

For long moments there was only silence. Malfoy was staring at Harry, four or five inches higher than Harry's average height. Even from the small distance Harry thought he could feel the luxury of the other man's clothes.

A thousand small things drew his attention, for example Malfoy's hair which gleamed like molten moonlight, or his eyes that glowed like silver coins, flecked with gold and copper whenever a torch flickered. It was rather cliché, but since Harry only stared at his face it was what he noticed. Harry could even count his lashes, so close Malfoy was. Even those lashes were exquisite, Harry noted with horror. Their heat intermingled, and it made Harry's head swim even more.

Finally, finally, Malfoy's searching gaze dropped to the scarf around Harry's neck. Both eyebrows raised at once.

"Excuse me for asking, but isn't that scarf Draco's?" he asked smoothly. Harry could hear the steel under the softness.

"Yeah," he replied quietly.

"How come that you have it?" Malfoy inquired. He took a step back and the air between them cooled off imperceptibly.

"He made me wear it," said Harry defiantly. "It wasn't my idea." He raised his chin in a silent challenge.

"He made you … wear it," Malfoy repeated blankly. "Whatever for?"

"Oh, I'm sure you know," said Harry maliciously. "After all, it's you that all this is about."

Malfoy's eyebrows rose even higher. For the first time in his entire life Harry believed that he saw Lucius Malfoy really and truly surprised.

"You have to explain that bit to me," the blonde demanded.

Harry dared to look into Malfoy's face. The heat didn't flare up again, although he was just as scared as before. But now he felt as if he had some of the control back. It was a good feeling.

"Remember Christmas, Malfoy, and a certain dinner in Muggle London?" he began.

Instantly Malfoy's face clouded over. "Oh, yes," he purred. "I remember that night vividly." He smiled sweetly, dangerously. "I thought I was seeing things. Very well done, Mr Potter, you had me fooled for a second." He clapped his hands softly for a few times, a mockery of respect.

"Draco found it funny to blackmail me with it last Wednesday," Harry continued, still feeling wicked for the endless moments of witless fear that he had gone through earlier. "That's how I came to wear the scarf. It was either take it and wear it for a week or he would tell your lovely wife that I was there that night." He stroked over the soft fabric, and Malfoy's eyes followed his hand like hypnotised. "I took good care of it, don't worry. I know it was expensive."

Malfoy's expression seemed torn between amusement and calculation. "A week, you said?" he spoke slowly. "Why, it's Saturday, no, Sunday. What are you still doing with it?"

Harry sneered. "Why, I got distracted every single time I tried to give it back," he said in a mockery of Malfoy's own way of speaking. "It's not as if I'm trying to break my word on purpose."

"I could give it back to my son," said Malfoy after a few moments of silent contemplation. "I don't mind, it's not as if Draco would be sleeping just yet."

Harry looked sternly at the man. Curiously, his confidence was returning, and so was the strength in his legs.

"I will give it back to him tomorrow," he said. "I don't care anymore who sees us, I just want to get this over with." He scowled. "My first oath, and I had to break it."

"It wasn't your fault, was it?" said Malfoy, smirking. "If anything you proved that you were thinking for once. It won't do if somebody sees you with my son like that. Give me the scarf, I'll get it back to Draco tonight with no one the wiser."

Harry became suspicious at once, although Lucius Malfoy's face didn't give away a thing.

"You of all people should be glad if I get in trouble," he pointed out with a sneer.

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Indeed. But I do care about my son's reputation among his peers. I don't need him to be thrown off-course just because he decided to play with you. No, I'll give it to him. It's better that way."

Harry thought that Malfoy almost sounded petulant now, but he had to admit that his proposal had various merits.

Stuffing his wand in his pocket and sighing quietly, he unwound the scarf from his neck and put it together as well as he could. He then handed it to Malfoy who accepted it with a superior nod of his perfect head.

"Thank you, Mr Potter." He tossed his hair over his shoulder. "You'll see, no harm will be done that way." His eerie smile and the incredible elegance he radiated made Harry's alarm bells ring, and suddenly the tension between them was back.

"Just see that he gets it back quickly," mumbled Harry, annoyed that his moods and reactions were so easy to provoke. "I'm fed up with his glaring and ranting."

"Yes, he can be very persuasive," said Malfoy indulgently, smiling proudly.

Harry looked morosely at the man and cursed him for being so damned good-looking. It was most distracting, not to mention disturbing. Surely that wasn't Malfoy's fault since Harry was the one who was being distracted and acting like a gormless idiot but that didn't mean that he had to like it.

Malfoy seemed amused and his eyes were raking over Harry's cautious, tense figure. "Without the scarf you look like a common adolescent, Mr Potter. Underfed and angsty. Not to mention cold."

"That's what I am," replied Harry bitingly. He couldn't believe it. The nerve of that man!

Malfoy smirked. "That won't do, Potter. First you are prancing around with my son's scarf and then you are catching a cold? I think not. If anything happens to you, Dumbledore will have my head." He looked positively gleeful, and not one bit concerned about Dumbledore. "He practically knows everything that's going on in this castle," Malfoy murmured, advancing on Harry again.

Feeling as if hit by a sledgehammer of sensations right into the stomach, Harry slumped back against the door.

"He possibly knows of our little … talk. If you were to turn in to the infirmary tomorrow he'd think it was my doing." Malfoy stepped even closer, now really breaking into Harry's personal space, or what little had been left after the last time he'd been so close. "I simply don't have the time to waste on Dumbledore." He reached up to undo the pristine, white scarf that was wound to perfection around his neck.

Harry could only stare at Malfoy who, not even a foot away, was loosening his scarf and taking it off.

"Take this instead," Malfoy instructed. With slow movements he placed the white fabric around Harry's neck and shoulders, draping it this way and that until he was satisfied. "And do me a favour and eat more, you look like they starve you in here." He sneered. "We wouldn't want the Dark Lord's henchman to snap you in two, now do we?"

The whole time Harry felt as if he was going to faint any second now. Those hands were on him, touching him. Those hands had brought death and pain and despair; Harry tried to comprehend how such ugly, tainted hands could be so tender and do something so mundane as putting a scarf on.

His vision blurred, his breathing hitched and a sudden flush heated him like never before.

"You really don't look all that well, Mr Potter. Maybe a short detour to Madam Pomfrey will remedy that." Malfoy's haughty voice sounded distant.

Harry thought in annoyance that the git didn't need to be so smug about it. His heart pounded in his chest. He felt small, like a trapped animal or some scared runaway child. The heat was rolling off of him in palpable waves.

"Oh, Merlin, what _is_ that scent, Mr Potter?" Malfoy asked lowly, his interest clearly aroused because of Harry's mysterious perfume that was spread in the air through the heat.

"I don't have a-," Harry tried to say, but all that would come out was an inarticulate groan – Malfoy had already buried his face in the crook between Harry's neck and shoulder and was inhaling deeply. Fingers tightened around Harry's arms. Somewhere, far away, a stick clattered to the stone floor and rolled a foot or so until it stopped.

Too shocked to do anything, Harry didn't move at all. He felt lips on his neck, imprinting themselves hotly. Malfoy's aristocratic nose was pressing on the pulse below Harry's left ear that was racing a mile a minute. Every inch of Harry burned in embarrassment and also strange excitement. Malfoy's breath wasn't cool on Harry's neck at all. If anything it scorched him even more. Silky hair was tickling his face and ear, adding to the overload.

When the man, after long moments, minutes perhaps, finally let go of Harry, both were panting slightly. Malfoy's face was now also flushed in obvious pleasure. His hands were still gripping Harry's shoulders tightly, possibly bruising them in the process. Harry found that he didn't care; the whole affair was too strange to care about anything other than his right state of mind.

"Sweet, sweet Circe," Malfoy breathed, "that's _amazing_." He gazed heatedly at Harry. "What's the brand, Potter? You have to tell me or …" He paused, licking his lips thoughtfully.

"Or _what_, Malfoy?" Harry panted out. His vision went white when Malfoy leaned closer again to catch some of his scent, and everything was swirling around him.

They glared at each other. Malfoy collected himself while Harry waited for an answer.

"There are too many possibilities, Mr Potter," said Malfoy eventually in a promising purr, smirking rather disturbingly down at Harry. "Besides, I spent too much time with you already. I have to go now if I want to give the scarf back to my son tonight." He stepped back and released Harry from his steely grip.

Harry wanted to scream at Malfoy that he should take his perverse fantasies out on somebody who'd appreciate them, but he was tongue-tied. A very handsome man had just accosted him, and he was only sixteen years old. Sixteen and very, very confused.

And, what was annoying him most, Malfoy well seemed to know it. Harry refused to be embarrassed, he considered himself the victim, after all.

Exhaling a breath he hadn't noticed he had kept, Harry slumped against the door. The sweat was cooling on his face and neck and chilled him. Now that Malfoy's body wasn't covering his own anymore he started to freeze.

Fear mingled with anger and heat meshed with resentment. With his head still full of cotton and clouds he glared at the blond man as hatefully as he could.

"See that you disappear quickly," he growled. The left side of his neck still glowed with heat.

Malfoy nodded, smirking meaningfully and smoothing out his slightly ruffled hair. His eyes were gleaming brightly, and Harry didn't want to think about the reason.

"Of course, Mr Potter. Your shift ended twenty minutes ago, anyway." Malfoy brushed with gloved hands over his front before he offered the right one. His cane was lying quite forgotten on the floor next to him.

Harry, after a moment of hesitation, accepted it for a shake. If Malfoy hadn't killed him yet he wouldn't do it now, he reasoned.

Malfoy smiled in obvious amusement that Harry once more had fallen for one of his ploys. With a perfect move he bowed slightly over their joined hands, bringing Harry's clammy yet hot fingers up to his lips.

"It's always a pleasure to meet you, Mr Potter," he purred. His stare bore into Harry's glazed green eyes before he pressed a hot, very notable kiss on the back of Harry's hand.

Harry gasped in surprise and squeezed his eyes shut. A wave of pleasurable nausea (now that was something Harry never, ever wanted to think about) crashed down on him. His stomach churned and protested while his blood sang excitedly at the touch.

"A pleasure indeed," Malfoy murmured and licked his lips. He let go of Harry's hand gently. "Good night, Mr Potter, and sweet dreams." He summoned his cane from the floor, turned around in a sweep of black robes and blond hair and left.

Harry heard the retreating footsteps and closed his eyes. He fought to control his rebelling body. He was feeling so sick to the stomach that he feared he would throw up on the spot if he didn't do something, and soon.

Once Malfoy was well out of sight, Harry sagged to the floor and took deep breaths of the cold air. He felt strange, but mostly he felt sick, and he wanted nothing more than his bed and dreamless sleep for the night.

After some minutes he groaned. _Twenty_ _minutes_ after his shift?

Harry let his head thud against the wall in silent despair.

---------

That night Harry had difficulty sleeping restfully. His heated body twisted in the sheets, and he moaned huskily when invisible hands invaded his dream and started to touch him as nobody had ever touched him before. Harry threw his head back and exposed his neck, whimpering when his dream lover licked the soft skin of his throat. The kissing soon turned to gentle nipping and sucking and Harry squirmed in appalled discomfort; the feeling was strange and new and he didn't know what exactly to do with it.

"Don't fight it, love," a dark voice whispered in Harry's ear when Harry pushed at the arms that held him down.

Harry pressed against the weight on top in a weak attempt to free himself and gasped when it didn't work. Those lips were driving him crazy, and the heavy body over him made his blood boil. He was trapped in his bed, and, after some final moments of struggling, he succumbed to his confinement. He even started to like the feeling of helplessness, as disconcerting as it was.

"Let me touch you," the voice crooned, "just this once." The invisible hands rubbed over Harry's chest, eliciting sparks of pleasure. "I'll make it good for you."

"Only this once," Harry moaned out when a heavy weight pressed against his hips, moving sensuously and robbing him of any ability to speak or think or resist.

The dream lover laughed and their lips landed on Harry's, kissing him hungrily. Harry gasped for air, choking when he felt sharp stabs of arousal in his stomach. His lover used the second to breach Harry's lips with his tongue and invaded his mouth greedily.

The kiss, Harry's very first real kiss, was clumsy, wet and somewhat awkward and yet Harry couldn't have dreamed of a better one. He arched against the mystery lover, embracing him tightly.

"You taste so sweet," the voice said in awe when they broke the kiss after endless minutes.

"Kiss me again," Harry demanded, inhibitions forgotten in favour of the unfulfilled need that was thrumming through him.

The invisible man – his toned body spoke volumes – obliged with a growling sound. Kisses were followed by more kisses, and then the mouth descended on Harry's body. Eager hands soon joined the wicked lips on their trail downward. They met no resistance.

Lost in the haze of lust and desire, Harry gave in to the dream and let himself be carried away by its intensity. Darkness was obscuring everything. And if he was honest, he didn't want to spoil the moments by looking, anyway.

It didn't take Harry's mystery lover very long to please him. Heat exploded violently after breathless moments, breaking from every molecule of Harry's sweaty body. Harry arched against his lover, uttering a strangled groan. A silky chuckle was the only answer, and after a last, gentle touch to his cheek the dream faded away.

-------

Harry woke with a start. Without his glasses he didn't see more than the shape of his pillow and blanket, both rather drenched with sweat.

"Oh, no," Harry muttered, beyond embarrassed by the telltale state of his rumpled sheets. He could honestly say that this had never happened before, not even when he'd harboured the crush on Cho Chang in his fifth year.

He struggled for a bit with his bed hangings before they finally surrendered and gave way to Harry's nightstand. He really had never been more grateful for the silencing spell around his bed than now. With a clumsy grope he reached for his wand and waved it over his bed.

"_Evanesco_," he muttered, blushing hotly.

At least his bed was presentable again. And maybe he should consider practicing that particular spell until he could do it silently too, the way Ron could.

A quiet snigger met his highly sensitive ears. "Welcome to our world, Harry," Ron's sleepy voice rumbled in amusement. "Took you long enough."

"Good night, Ron," retorted Harry tartly, feeling another blush on his face.

He yanked his bed hangings shut and put up another silencing spell. It was natural, all right. It was still embarrassing as hell.

----------

In the morning Harry decided to forego breakfast. Instead he put his winter clothes on, dodged his friends and took another long stroll around the grounds. It was much easier to think things over when nobody was interrupting his musings.

Snow was crunching under the soles of Harry's trainers. Daylight was just winning the last scuffle against the darkness of the night. It suited Harry's contemplative mood perfectly. Reaching a spot by the lake, Harry sat down on a fallen tree trunk and stared over the wide, almost endless expanses of the lake. Golden sunrays were painting the water and ice in beautiful, soft tones. Harry thought he could even hear the merpeople sing.

Sighing, he settled back and stared into the morning sky.

It wasn't that unusual that he had dreamed about a male. Harry knew now for sure that he was at least partial to boys, if only out of curiosity. During the last few months he had occasionally dreamed about boys kissing him softly, like Blaise had done, but the dreams had never been so explosive like the last one. Or so explicit.

The compromising contents of the dream aside, Harry found that he rather liked the strength and the relatively uncomplicated ways of thinking of men. Besides, some boys were really handsome. Sometimes, in particularly lonely moments, he liked to entertain thoughts about him and another boy in a real relationship. The idea of being able to lean back and receive comfort from someone who was physically strong was appealing; with girls Harry knew that he'd be the one offering comfort at all times.

He wasn't even really disturbed about Ron knowing of his embarrassing late night escapade but more because of the fact that he had dreamed about such a thing after Lucius sodding Malfoy had laid hands on him. Under his Gryffindor scarf the skin of his neck was still hot and tender. Harry hadn't had the courage to look into the mirror when he had washed his face this morning. What he did know, however, was that his right hand sported a lip-shaped bruise in a dark red colour that was flecked with lighter, almost golden lines.

Harry scowled darkly at the mark. He didn't know how a kiss could make his skin bruise so, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to know. It was simply disturbing and revolting, as if Lucius Malfoy had branded him for some unknown reason.

_Like cattle_, Harry thought with morbid amusement.

He stretched his legs and yawned. The dream had exhausted him, he felt drained and tired, although not unpleasantly so. It was just so strange.

Later, around lunchtime, Harry decided to meet up with his friends. He was hungry and needed some company. He needed something to take his mind off his marked hand and the last night.

"There you are, Harry!" exclaimed Hermione over the heads of several students. "I was worried but Ron said to leave you alone for a bit. Where have you been?"

"Out," said Harry, smiling slightly. It was good to see them. "I needed to think for a bit."

Ron snorted in laughter. "I bet." He smirked at Harry. "Was it any good?"

"Be quiet," said Harry warningly. He took his cloak off and put it over the bench.

Hermione looked from one to the other, clearly puzzled about their unusual behaviour.

"Well?" Ron prompted.

"It did me some good. The thinking I mean," said Harry, clarifying his statement when Ron sniggered again. "And you better stop or I'll make some remarks about your-"

"I get it," said Ron calmly, eyes glittering with mirth. "I love you like the sixth brother I never had, you know that, right?"

Harry started and was speechless for long moments. Hermione, however, snorted in amused exasperation.

"I'd never betray your trust like that. I hope you know that, too," Ron continued, smiling warmly. "I'm just teasing you." He held his arms open and Harry stepped into the strong embrace.

"I know," mumbled Harry, voice thick with emotion. "I love you, too. You git," he added as an afterthought.

Ron laughed loudly and clapped Harry on the back. "It's okay, you know. Actually, it's _good_ for you."

"Now don't push it," Harry warned, blushing beet red in mere milliseconds.

"I wouldn't dream of it," retorted Ron, eyes shining happily.

Harry sighed and sat down next to him. Today's menu was soup of white beans with sausages and he filled his bowl to the rim. Hermione placed a bread basket next to his elbow. Oddly, Lucius Malfoy's taunting words from last night popped up in Harry's head, reminding him to eat more.

"Oh, how did your discussion with Snape go, by the way?" Harry asked Hermione a bit later. "I hope he agreed."

Hermione smiled crookedly. "Well, not exactly. I believe he said he'll let me in his lab if the world is coming down on him." She blew a strand of hair out of her face. "So I said that I won't have to wait very long for that."

Harry swallowed a piece of his sausage and raised an eyebrow. "And what did he say to that?"

"Well, he agreed," replied Hermione, shrugging. "Said that we would all die anyway if this happened so I'd still not get in his lab."

"The git," said Ron, rolling his eyes. "Honestly, he calls us stupid and lazy and if somebody actually wants to work he's not even supporting it."

"I think it is personal," said Hermione sadly. "I'll never get to brew some of the more complex potions. I should get used to the thought."

Ron fumed and Harry was also angry. It seemed that their tactic to get through to Snape wasn't working as expected; they'd have to upgrade their plan and further their efforts. Now more than ever.

Halfway through his second bowl of soup, Harry looked up and at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was positively seething at him and didn't bother to hide it. Harry frowned at him and wondered what he had done now. The git had his scarf back, so what could he want from him now?

Soon Ron and Hermione noticed as well and wondered aloud what had Malfoy going.

"Oh, I think I know," said Seamus and winked at Harry, "I bet that he's got a huge crush on Harry and is now angry at him for ditching him."

Dean groaned. "Get your mind out of the gutter, you pervert. Not everybody goes for Slytherins." He glanced at Malfoy's thunderous form and shuddered. "Especially not for this one." Ginny next to him sneered in disgust and nodded.

"Thank you, Dean," quipped Harry.

Seamus snickered and ducked expertly away from Ginny's swatting hand. "I was just joking," he pouted. "You guys are no fun, honestly!"

Harry sighed and returned to look at Malfoy's fuming form. The blonde looked so angry that even Pansy didn't dare to badger him as she usually did. He raised an eyebrow and jerked his head in the direction of the door. Malfoy looked ready to strangle him, but he nodded all the same.

Without further ado the Slytherin got up and left the Great Hall, taking the stormy cloud of anger with him.

Harry finished his bowl of soup first. He was still hungry but reckoned that he could get a snack from the House Elves later. This issue was more important right now.

While he got up Harry glared at Hermione. His good mood had vanished, not really surprising at the prospect of having to deal with an irate Malfoy.

"Just so you know it, this is entirely your fault! If you hadn't dragged me off on Friday none of this would happen!" he hissed angrily at her. With that he left the table and went out of the Great Hall, slamming the door after him.

As soon as he had stepped out into the corridor, Malfoy was by his side and grabbed his arm tightly, dragging him off into an unused classroom. Harry didn't even have time to be astounded by Malfoy's strength. Students who saw them stared and muttered among themselves, obviously thinking that he and Malfoy were at it yet again.

_Well_, Harry thought cynically, _it's not far from the truth, if at all_.

"Potter, what is the meaning of this?" growled Malfoy angrily as soon as the door had slammed shut behind them, indicating Harry's Gryffindor scarf that was lying around his neck. "We had an agreement!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry groused back. "You insufferable prat! I did as you asked of me, didn't I? Is it my fault if I am sent away every time I wanted to give the stupid thing back to you?"

Malfoy advanced menacingly on Harry and pushed him bodily against the blackboard of the room, trapping him between the board and his body. A funny feeling was invading Harry's head and he felt a headache beginning to form behind his eyes.

"You think you can just get around our deal, do you?" whispered Malfoy, sounding quite mad. "You already kept me waiting, and now you're even putting it off completely! Where's the praised honour of you Gryffindors?" His hands gripped Harry's shoulders rather painfully; Lucius' hands had indeed left their marks last night and it hurt more than it should.

"Don't touch me!" said Harry poisonously. He slapped Malfoy's hands away and pushed him away. The blonde actually stepped back but his black glare was as intense as before. "You stupid brute! Are you ever satisfied? I gave you the scarf back already!"

Malfoy's scowl twisted into an amused, angry sneer. "Oh, you did, didn't you? And how did you do that, St Potter? Did you send it flying to me at night so I could find it on my pillow this morning?" He crossed his arms over his chest and fixed Harry with his mercury glare. "I'll tell you what: if you did, it didn't work."

"Oh, I sent it to you alright. Only not with a fairy, since your father is hardly one. I met him last night at the main entrance gate," said Harry, scowling at Malfoy for his scathing tones. "He saw me with the scarf and offered to take it back to you. So I gave it to him."

"You did what?" Malfoy asked sharply.

"I said I met your father," replied Harry angrily. "Do you ever listen, Malfoy? He said he'd give it back to you. It's not my fault if he can't even do that right."

In a gesture of sudden defeat, Malfoy lowered his arms and stared at Harry. All his anger dissipated at once and left a helpless young man who obviously didn't know what to say. Harry felt almost sorry for him.

"I take it that he didn't show up last night?" he asked, carefully keeping his glee out of his voice. "What's going on between you two? Did you step on his toes?"

He wanted to ask if Malfoy and his father regularly behaved so childishly towards each other but refrained from it just in time. He did not want to provoke and heap more trouble upon himself than he was already in.

Malfoy looked at Harry strangely. "I'm not too sure," he offered in a curiously detached voice. "But he seems to like your perfume, too. I can't imagine why he would have taken your scarf if he didn't." His lips quirked in a not very amused little smile. "He always gets like that when he finds something he likes. I really shouldn't be surprised."

Harry blanched. Did Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater par excellence, really take a scarf with Harry's supposed mysterious perfume? Wasn't it bad enough that the man had accosted him in the dead of the night?

"Oh, Father always takes what he wants," said Malfoy conversationally, although his calm, quiet voice betrayed his agitation by its steely nuances.

Oh, Harry had no doubt that this was absolutely true, because that was _exactly_ what had happened. He flushed at the thought. Lucius Malfoy had cornered him and taken a rather liberal sniff directly from the source. Not that Draco needed to know that.

"Tell me, Potter, did he comment on it at all?" Malfoy asked with a deceptively gentle voice. He stepped closer again, arrogant and dangerous.

"Well, yes, but that doesn't explain why he – oh, hell!" Harry choked when Malfoy pressed himself against Harry and thus slammed Harry back against the blackboard. Chalk dust exploded around them and settled on their black cloaks and their hair.

"He was with you last night," murmured Malfoy into Harry's ear. His breath was ghosting over the sensitive skin of Harry's neck. "And he was … close." Malfoy reared back just enough to stare at Harry incredulously.

"I … he was asking the same stupid question like you did!" said Harry in self-defence. "It's not as if I could have told him to just fuck off!"

Malfoy snorted in disgust. "How pathetic, Potter. You let my father near you like this, I can't believe it. What will you do the next time, ask him to kiss you and hold your hand?" He sniffed Harry's throat right and then left. His hands squeezed into Harry's arms painfully. "He was just here, wasn't he?" His nose grazed the skin where his father had pressed his lips to Harry's neck last night.

"I didn't want him to sniff me like a dog!" Harry protested, feeling so wrongly accused that it hurt. Feeling like this the second time in such a short wile was too much for him. He started to fight against Malfoy's grip, unfortunately without much success. "You both have lost your marbles!"

Malfoy only grunted and simply put a hand over Harry's mouth to shut him up. He then bent down to sniff Harry's neck eagerly, prying the Gryffindor's scarf away from it. "I demand compensation," he hissed against Harry's hot skin.

Harry strained against the unbelievably strong hold, trying to get away without using magic. The last thing he needed was another scuffle with Malfoy on his record.

"Ah-ah," said Malfoy sweetly, "not so fast, Potter." He buried his face in Harry's black hair to whisper in his right ear. "I demand that you wear another scarf for a week. And, to make up for the time you wasted in getting my scarf back to me in time, I'll make use of this," he pressed closer against Harry, "for as long as I please." He pressed his lips against Harry's skin when he sucked in a deep breath.

Harry choked on Malfoy's words. His hands finally found a hold on the back of Malfoy's robes and started to tear at them. It wasn't easy to free himself when half of his air supply was cut off by a hand and an incredibly hot mouth was latching on his neck.

"Stop struggling, Potter," said Malfoy irritably into Harry's hair. He took the hand from Harry's mouth, immediately clamping it around Harry's arm again. He didn't stop his smelling, though. "You don't have anything to complain about, you idiot. This will teach you to cross me without thinking again." His lips and nose scorched the skin under Harry's ear.

With a determined move Harry wrenched his head from Malfoy's grasp. Finally he got some air, now that he was at least a bit out of Malfoy's overwhelming presence. His head was swimming just like yesterday.

Whatever was the cause, it must be a Malfoy trait, he thought sarcastically. Nobody else could make him feel so sick and floaty and frightened all at once.

"Ha, you think you are so high and mighty, do you, Malfoy?" Harry asked breathlessly when he had collected a modicum of his battered wit. "What do you really want from me? If you fancy me you could just say so." He sneered. "I doubt I would decline your offer. You are rather cute, after all."

He knew he was pushing it but when he saw Malfoy redden in anger he knew it was worth it. The close proximity of that body against his did nothing to ease his terror (Malfoy's body actually reminded him of his rather raunchy dream last night, much to Harry's horror), and the cotton in his head slowly took over Harry's actions. He could only hope that this was over soon, or there would be bloodshed if he wasn't careful.

Harry was lucky, though. With an angry snarl Malfoy backed away from him, righting his tie and brushing off his rumpled robes. Harry smirked, almost feeling the fuzziness leaving his befuddled brain.

"What, Malfoy, did I get you all hot and bothered?" he said balefully. "Don't you want to play anymore?" Harry brushed himself off and pulled the scarf off his neck with a jerking motion. He was so hot, and his head still hurt. He wished Malfoy would just go and never come back again, ever.

"You're a pervert, Potter," said Malfoy coldly. "I'd never touch you, of that you can be assured."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, for 'never touching' you were rather close up just now, don't you think?" He narrowed his eyes and slipped his glasses back up his nose. "You and your father are both perverted, sick bastards. You think you can go and harass me all over, do you?" Harry's voice took on a dangerous, feral timbre. "Don't do that ever again or I'll tear your fingers from your hands, one by one, until you can't touch anybody anymore. The same goes for your father. Are we understood?"

Malfoy stared at Harry as if he had sprouted another head. His hair was loose, looser than Harry remembered it to be (he was apparently really laying off that hair gel, Harry thought), and his eyes looked a bit crazed.

"Wonderful," Harry continued when a few seconds had passed without Malfoy offering a reaction and as if Malfoy had actually agreed. "Now to your scarf: your father gave me his own scarf in exchange for yours. I'll wear it for a week and not a day longer. If I, by any chance, should fail to give it back, you are to come and fetch it next Sunday night. I don't want a repeat performance."

"Wait," snapped Malfoy, now getting out of his stupor, "you can't do that! It's unfair! You made me wait much longer, and this is how you repay me?"

"After your stunt you should be glad that I offer you any kind of compensation at all," said Harry coldly. "Don't push me, Malfoy, or you'll get to know my wand more intimately than you could ever wish for."

Malfoy actually backed up. "All right, I understand," he ground out. He bowed his head tersely. "I apologise for … manhandling you."

Harry shook his head and righted his clothes one last time before he wound the scarf back around his neck. He really wanted to know why Malfoy was doing what he was doing, to understand the motivations for his actions. And yet, at the same time he didn't want to know. It was too strange. And he certainly was too angry right now to even try.

With a short spell he cleaned his robes of the chalk that had rubbed off from the blackboard and then, after one last sneer at his blond enemy, swept out of the room.

-------

Harry knew he should have known better when the eleventh student asked about the new scarf around Harry's neck. By now his obsession with them was a running gag in the school.

"Harry, where did you get this?" Parvati asked breathlessly when she had caught up with his long strides (Harry refused to call it flight).

They were standing just inside the Great Hall, halfway blocking the path of other students who came in for dinner.

"It is beautiful but …," she looked uncertainly at him, "but why … I mean, how did you get this with this … emblem on?"

Harry sighed. Since Hermione had shown him the silvery Malfoy crest on the blasted thing he hadn't had one single, silent minute to himself. Everybody seemed to know that it was there; they approached him and asked about the stupid thing as if Harry was dealing with a huge burden. News seemingly had never travelled faster than this afternoon.

He cursed Lucius Malfoy for what he did. Not only had he branded his hand and neck somehow, now his scarf was also branding Harry, and in a most unfavourable way.

Draco Malfoy, of course, was positively gloating about this new turn of events. Harry had refused to sacrifice his own scarf for Malfoy's whims so he had decided to wear Malfoy senior's scarf until next Sunday, just as he had told Malfoy that he would.

"I had a run in with Malfoy," said Harry tightly. "We sort of fought and my scarf got burned. I took his until he gets me a new one." Oh, it was a lie but Harry was beyond caring now. It was Malfoy's fault after all, now he surely could stand being the villain once more.

"Oh, you poor dear," crooned Parvati, looking rather eager. "What did he do that you started fighting?"

Harry felt compelled to bash his head against a wall. "The usual," he replied tersely and quickly attached himself to Ginny when she entered the hall with some of her friends. "See you later!"

Harry quickly sat next to Ron and Hermione, hoping that they would shield him from new questions and exclamations of shock and outrage. Harry felt a bit bad for telling them the same story as he had Parvati and everybody else but he couldn't stand the thought of them knowing the truth. As bad as it sounded, these moments were his. He didn't particular like them but they were special nonetheless.

Lunch, and, subsequently the whole day, passed quickly. Harry had barely time for his homework with the lesson of the DA this afternoon and the demands of his students for a bit more training. His head was spinning with all those recent events. Sometimes, in the rare flashes of contemplation, he could barely believe that he was still teaching his DA instead of screaming.

He managed well enough, though, and went to bed quickly that night to do some work on his mental barriers. Knowing Voldemort he would need them soon enough again and with all the things going on he'd better be prepared.

Harry put his most private memories into his Pensieve first that night. He needed his head clear to attempt Occlumency and to work on his labyrinth. Both run-ins with the Malfoys were certainly something to get out of the way first; Harry's head hurt just thinking about it.

Blissful relief spread through him when the stubborn memories were safely stowed into the Pensieve. It was like a temporary Obliviating Spell, although Harry didn't think that this was the real purpose of a Pensieve. He had seen memories in a Pensieve before and was sure that they were some kind of copy, not the real thing. Like Snape's memories, which he had yet to banish completely.

After that he could finally concentrate on the task at hand and was at it until the old, huge clock from the Great Hall let its deep gongs vibrate through the castle at midnight. Harry frowned at the Pensieve before he snuggled into his covers under the thick comforter and closed his eyes.

--------

The next week passed quickly though not easily. Malfoy was giving Harry the evil eye whenever he saw him and Harry returned the favour with equal fervour. Only the white scarf that was Harry's new, constant companion, fended off any advances from the Slytherins.

Not for lack of trying on their part, though.

At one point, in Friday's Care of Magical Creature's lesson, Goyle attempted to rip the scarf from Harry to give it back to Malfoy.

The boils which had covered his entire body hadn't been pretty – and Madam Pomfrey had a hard time putting Goyle back together, given that not only Harry but Ron, Hermione and even Malfoy had hexed him severely.

Hagrid hadn't docked points since he considered the damage that had been done as fair and proceeded with the lesson (minus Goyle and Crabbe, who accompanied the hexed boy to the infirmary). No one really minded and everybody took his indifference in stride.

During the detention with Crabbe and Goyle Malfoy made himself scarce and left it to Blaise to keep Harry company. Millicent Bulstrode and Theodore Nott apparently became new, permanent fixtures because Snape permitted them to read his books and study for tests. Only yesterday, during Thursday's detention, Millicent had started quite an intelligent conversation about the uses of flobberworm teeth – Harry hadn't even known the stupid things had teeth at all. Pansy had gotten off her punishment and kept clear of trouble, now that Malfoy wasn't going to detentions anymore.

It came as no little surprise to Harry when he discovered that he couldn't stay angry with Malfoy for long. He _had_ broken the oath, unintentionally or not, and was therefore open to Malfoy's attempts at revenge. After a few days of cooling down Harry had come to terms with it and accepted Malfoy's demand as fair. He had marked the line and stood his ground as he'd wished, now it was time to make amends. The hostility between them was unnerving and annoying and Harry could do without it.

Besides, he had found a suitable sonnet to recite to Malfoy. He had borrowed the book from Katie and had learned his sonnet late at night before his Occlumency training. Its meaningful words tugged at his heart, as if they were speaking of a truth that Harry found he should have seen much sooner.

It was so unnerving in so many ways but somehow Harry knew that it was the right thing to do, even if Malfoy wouldn't accept the gesture.

---------

Harry was a very happy boy when Sunday finally came. He had seen Malfoy receive a package yesterday morning and assumed that it was a new scarf to make a truth of their story that Harry's original scarf had gotten burned in a scuffle between him and Malfoy.

Harry was just done with this Sunday's lesson for the DA and barely gone from the seventh floor when Malfoy approached him. He seemed quiet, almost humble, as if he expected Harry to hex him the moment he opened his mouth.

A strange feeling of guilt crept up at Harry, so he just motioned Malfoy to follow him to an unused corridor where he faced him.

"It's time to get this issue off our backs," said Harry quietly, genuinely amused, now that it was over.

Malfoy didn't move, just looked with interest at a spot over Harry's right shoulder.

"Look, I'm sorry I broke that oath, I know how important it is to wizards. I wish I could have kept it." When Malfoy's expression didn't change, Harry continued, "I really do. If only to keep you out of my hair."

That brought forth a sardonic little twitch of Malfoy's mouth, at last.

"I also thought about our feud and decided that it's not worth my time anymore," said Harry, keeping his smirk down. This just _had_ to be big news for his long-time enemy.

"You _what_?" Malfoy asked, predictably gobsmacked. "End our feud? Are you high, Potter?"

Now Harry smirked. "Sadly no. Anyway, I remember that I promised you a sonnet, and you'll get it."

"What?" Malfoy repeated, sounding even more incredulous than before. His eyes widened comically in horror, and he backed up a step. "This has nothing to do with it, Potter. Let's just exchange the scarves and get it over with."

"Oh, but that's the point: no sonnet, no scarf," purred Harry, backing Malfoy against the wall. "You'll live, I promise. After all, I'm proposing something to you so you better listen because I won't offer it twice."

"Pro-proposing?" Malfoy fairly squeaked. "You don't want to ask me out, do you, Potter?" He sounded really panicked.

"Malfoy," said Harry in a slow voice, just shaking his head in amusement, "I mean it when I say:

"_That you were once unkind befriends me now, _

_And for that sorrow which I then did feel _

_Needs must I under my transgression bow, _

_Unless my nerves were brass or hammer'd steel. _

_For if you were by my unkindness shaken _

_As I by yours, you've pass'd a hell of time, _

_And I, a tyrant, have no leisure taken _

_To weigh how once I suffered in your crime. _

_O, that our night of woe might have remember'd _

_My deepest sense, how hard true sorrow hits, _

_And soon to you, as you to me, then tender'd _

_The humble salve which wounded bosoms fits! _

_But that your trespass now becomes a fee; _

_Mine ransoms yours, and yours must ransom me._"

Malfoy blushed a violent red when Harry had finished his slow and expressive recitation and lowered his head. His hands were balled to fists and shook rather badly.

"You _do_ know, Potter," he said in a repressed voice, "that this is a _lover's_ sonnet, don't you?"

Harry stepped back and cocked his head. He was high on emotions, he had put a lot into this poem to get his point across to Malfoy.

"I don't know. It might be but when I read it I thought that it fits us well." He took the scarf from his neck, still warm from his own slight embarrassment, and came closer to Malfoy again. "This is how I feel about us, anyway. I just wanted you to know."

Malfoy's eyes were glazed over when he finally looked up at Harry. His lips were pressed together and he looked white as an infirmary bed sheet.

"You trusting fool," he said with an uneven, slightly trembling voice. "You still don't know that you shouldn't wear your heart on your sleeve."

"That's who I am," said Harry, smiling apologetically. "I guess you'll just have to live with it."

Harry had never seen somebody literally blanch in rage but Malfoy was demonstrating it quite impressively.

"You are so stupid Potter, saying something like _that_ to me! I could tell my father, or I could tell the Dark Lord! What are you thinking, offering me that? Are you even thinking?" He was breathing heavily and seemed on the brink of madness.

Harry was shaken about that outburst; he hadn't expected Malfoy to react so violently to his little peace offering. It almost seemed as if Malfoy honestly cared about his safety.

"I was thinking all right," said Harry quietly. "I want to bury the hatchet. I mean it. I neither have the time nor the inclination to fight with you any longer. I'd like it if we could agree on a truce." His serious expression loosened and he grinned. "And I think I like it how I can fluster you. It's more fun if you don't threaten to kill me every time."

"You're crazy," said Malfoy hollowly. "You can't want that. You don't know on which side I am."

"Right now I don't care," replied Harry nonchalantly. "This is about you and me. Think about it. It would make both our lives much easier. Besides, we could watch out for each other."

He stepped another step up to Malfoy and threw the scarf around his neck, holding on to both ends of the precious thing. Malfoy's cheeks coloured slightly.

"Voldemort has no say in what you think or do, Malfoy," said Harry, sounding steely and determined. "He's just a raving lunatic who needs a good talking-to." His eyes glared at Malfoy's, willing him to accept the truce. If not for Harry's sake then for the sake of peace until the inevitable would occur. He pulled on the scarf and thus pulled Malfoy forward. "Accept or I'll make your life at Hogwarts a living hell."

Malfoy choked. "Only you can pull something like this off and win," he said finally, standing with slightly bowed head before Harry and contemplating him. Blond strands fell into his eyes and Harry thought again how good loose hair looked on him.

"So you accept, huh?" Harry asked, smiling broadly. "Wonderful, so I succeeded in bewitching you with my exceptional wooing skills."

Malfoy snorted. "More like deafened. I couldn't understand a word you said afterwards." He stood up so Harry was forced to follow the tug of the scarf. "A Shakespeare sonnet of all things."

Without knowing how Harry was suddenly the one standing against the wall with Malfoy bracing himself in front of him. His hands seemed very hot where they were sitting against the wall on each side of Harry's head.

"You are one sneaky bastard, Potter, confusing me with such things and getting the better of me." Malfoy smirked. "But well, it has just been a stroke of luck." He leaned forward and kissed Harry on the mouth. Only for a second, and only very chastely, but he did.

Harry was speechless for a moment. Then he shook himself out of his stupor. "Does that mean you fancy me, you big, blond git?" he asked and grinned smugly.

"Not even remotely, Potter," replied Malfoy haughtily. "I always forget how undereducated you are. I sealed our truce." He pulled back. "And this time I expect you to keep to your promise or I'll make _your_ life at Hogwarts a living hell. One does _n_ot break an oath to a Malfoy twice and lives to tell the tale."

"I got it," said Harry seriously. He could tell that his constant switches in expression were confusing Malfoy but it was part of the fun. Besides, he really meant it. He would stick to his promise and he would talk to Ron and Hermione to keep it down as well.

Malfoy stepped back and ran a hand through his hair. The scarf was hanging carelessly around his neck and he obviously wasn't bothering to do it up right. Harry wondered how long Malfoy would be satisfied with it, he had even worn the thing at the DA meetings, during the most taxing training, and had put in his bed when he slept. He hoped the smell was strong enough now so Malfoy wouldn't bother him again for it.

"Oh, but Malfoy?" Harry said in faint amusement when the blonde turned to go. "Didn't you forget something? Aren't I supposed to get a new scarf from you?"

"Of course," said Malfoy, smirking. "I carried the bloody thing with me since yesterday so I wouldn't forget it. The stupid thing is a menace! Pansy wouldn't get off my back because of it. See that we never have to do this again." He pulled the scarf from a pocket of his robes and handed it to Harry. It was a brand new Gryffindor scarf in brilliant colours.

"Wow, it looks great," said Harry, marvelling at the soft fabric. "You can't tell me that this is the usual student quality."

"I couldn't bear the thought of me touching some scratchy Gryffindor felt." Malfoy sniffed indignantly. "I hope you appreciate it."

Harry laughed. "This is rich, Malfoy! You're _so_ spoiled," he gasped, eyes alight with mirth. He sobered quickly and smirked at the other boy. "But the whole trouble was worth the outcome. Thank you."

"We'll see if this madness is worth my while," was Malfoy's indignant answer before he tossed one end of the still pristinely white scarf around a shoulder, turned around and strode away.

Harry chuckled and put the new scarf around his neck. He had really outdone himself, exchanging scarves for the fourth time now since the whole madness had started.

With a contented sigh and a happy feeling in his chest he pushed himself off the wall and slowly meandered back to Gryffindor Tower. He had work to do and nerves to calm.

**End of chapter 12**

---------


	14. Chapter 13

_Disclaimer_: Nothing belongs to me, except the plot. :-)

_Note_: Hello again, and sorry for the long wait! Your reviews and your support are awesome! I don't really know what to write except saying 'Thank You!' over and over again. You're the best!

Unfortunately my private life has gotten a bit busier lately and so it may take a long while until the next chapter comes out. I apologize in advance because I know how hard it is to wait endlessly. Im very sorry and I try to work on this story regardless, even if it's at a snail's pace.

After confessing this, I only have to thank the best beta in the world, the wonderful **Licelli**. Sorry for making you wait, I'll work hard, I promise!

And now have fun reading! This is new, even for the die-hard members of ETC. :-)

Please let me know what you think. I'm very anxious since there are several months, even years, between this chapter and the last.

Cheers,

Morraine

* * *

**- Chapter 13 -**

The next week flew by very quickly. To Harry it seemed as if time itself couldn't await the arrival of spring and warmer weather. Malfoy sent Harry a book about wizarding oaths and other bonds that settled contracts and promises between two or more wizards. The haughty note just told Harry to use his brain for once and actually learn something worth his wile, if only to save him the humiliation of botching something up again.

Given that their truce worked out rather well until now, Harry saw no reason to object. True, he and Malfoy were still far from being friends but at least they weren't at each others' throat anymore, which was a tremendous success in Harry's opinion.

Ron, Hermione and others soon noticed that their level of animosity had come down but with everything happening so fast outside the walls of Hogwarts nobody complained about the reprieve. Basically, Harry and Malfoy left each other alone.

Shortly before Hermione's detention was about to end on Saturday night, Harry's two-sided mirror buzzed and chimed softly in his robe's breast pocket. Instantly Harry was alerted and spun on his heel, heading hurriedly back to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius was calling.

While he was storming through the eerie corridors, Harry pressed his hand to his chest and glared left and right at the peeking inhabitants of the portraits that lined the walls. Fortunately he hadn't been that far away from his common room, and the Fat Lady didn't put up much of a fight, either, when he hissed the password at her.

The common room was already empty with the sole exception of Ron who looked expectantly at him as soon as he entered. Without bothering to take his cloak off Harry pulled the mirror from his pocket and activated it.

"I'm here, Sirius, you can speak now," he said impatiently.

Sirius' happy, frostbitten face appeared and grinned up at both Harry and Ron. "Took you long enough!" he complained cheerfully. "We just wanted to let you know that we arrived safely you-know-where and dropped off you-know-who. He certainly seems happy to be back."

"Where exactly are you?" Harry asked.

"Don't bother coming to us, Harry," replied Sirius. "We're coming in. Let's meet down in the kitchens in fifteen minutes. Remus and I could both do with some hot chocolate."

"Alright, I'll see you there, then. I'll bring Ron and Hermione." Harry quickly ended the call when Sirius had agreed and proceeded to drape his cloak more comfortably around his shoulders.

"Are you sure you want 'Mione and I with you?" Ron asked. "I'd understand if you'd want some time alone with them."

"Nonsense, Ron." Harry smirked at his best friend and pointed at the Marauders' Map that was lying on the table. "I know you watched the map to wait up for Hermione. We might as well get going and meet up with her. I already told Sirius we would bring her, anyway."

Relieved, Ron dispelled the surface of the map and then put it back together, taking it upstairs to their dorm where he undoubtedly stored it in Harry's trunk. He came back, clad with his own cloak and scarf and ready to leave.

Thankfully the Fat Lady didn't put up much of a fight, just let them pass with a frown. Harry didn't have the late shift tonight and they all knew it; Ron and Harry were almost sure that Dumbledore was well aware of who was visiting the castle tonight.

Together they slunk through the castle, the invisibility cloak tightly secured under Harry's arm. They'd use it if they had to but they could walk faster without it. Snape was still busy with Hermione_;_ Ron had seen it on the map, so they weren't concerned about being caught by him. All the other teachers would let them off easily once they heard that Remus and Sirius were dropping by, although they wouldn't approve.

The trek down to the kitchen_s_ was uneventful, however. Nobody stopped them, not even the nosy portraits on their way who were never shy to make smart comments.

Tickling the pear on the entrance portal to the kitchen_s_, they finally got out of the dreary and dank dungeon corridors and slipped into the welcoming heat of the huge kitchen.

Instantly they were greeted by a crowd of eager House Elves who were happily offering their services. Harry paid them no heed, however. Sirius and Remus were already sitting at a table and sipping something hot from large mugs, beaming at him and Ron.

"Hello, Dobby," Harry said and hastily got over to his two godfathers.

"Harry!" Sirius exclaimed. As soon as Harry was close enough he engulfed him in a strong, loving embrace and squeezed for all he was worth. "Oh, it's so good to see you again."

"How was your trip?" Harry managed to wheeze out when he was passed on to Remus who was squeezing him only a little less tightly.

"Bloody difficult!" said Sirius loudly. "Buckbeak insisted on flying day and night to get back here; the bloody thing knew where we were headed as soon as we left the attic with him. If Remus hadn't kept him in check the Ministry might have caught us in our first hour out."

"Thankfully everything went well," said Remus, sighing in exasperation. "That blizzard last Friday was a blessing in disguise. We had to land because somebody spotted us but the snow covered all our tracks and allowed us to pass a good part of the way on foot with no one the wiser."

"How good to hear that, Lupin," said a chilly voice from the doorway. Snape stood there, Hermione in tow, and sneered at them in a most unpleasant way. "With all the racket you make I wonder how it is possible that the rest of your … gang isn't up yet to celebrate this little get-together."

"Snape, always the most cheerful person at a party," said Sirius sarcastically. "Do tell, what are you doing down here with us lowly worms?"

Snape's eyes glittered in malicious amusement as he measured Sirius. "Oh, you know, just escorting Miss Granger here to her common room. Dumbledore doesn't deem it safe for her to wander the halls alone after curfew."

"Does he now?" Remus asked with a frown.

Harry thought it impossible of Dumbledore to entrust Snape with a student at all, and especially if said student was one of his best friends.

"Dumbledore is exaggerating as always," said Hermione, sounding rather tired and put out. She stepped into the kitchen which made several House Elves twitch nervously. "Oh, please. All I want is a decent cup of tea!" she snapped.

Without showing his nervousness Harry stepped up to her and hugged her shortly. "We'll go back soon, 'Mione. We just wanted to make sure Sirius and Remus are all right."

"I don't doubt you can watch out for yourself, Miss Granger," said Snape silkily. It sounded somewhat ambiguous. "I was more concerned about Mr Potter and Mr Weasley. _They_ obviously have a most unfortunate penchant for getting in trouble."

Harry, who was still having an arm around Hermione's shoulders, noticed how tensed up Snape was, despite his cutting amusement.

"That's nothing new," he said challengingly.

"I see that you're making progress, Potter," drawled Snape darkly. "Knowing your faults and flaws is the first step to improvement." He sneered. "Although I find it difficult to see that working for you."

"Snape," growled Sirius. He was obviously annoyed about Snape's presence. In fact, the man didn't seem as if he had the intention to leave soon. "What, exactly, do you want? If you're here to berate the boys– "

"Oh, it's nothing of the sort, Black," said Snape and picked a bit of lint off his black sleeve. "I was merely escorting Miss Granger, as I said. The headmaster, however, decided to inform me five minutes before the detention was over that you were stopping by. How could I ever refuse his suggestion of reuniting you lot?" His tone was cutting and bitter, full of fatigue and anger and resignation.

"Well, you escorted her, now you can leave. Good night, Snape," said Sirius sharply.

"Sirius!" hissed Remus, very obviously appalled at his lack of manners. "This is Hogwarts, you can't just throw him out!" He looked up at Snape grimly. "Please stay, Severus, and have a cup of tea. We had a long week."

"I know, Lupin," replied Snape flatly. "I assume you can take care of Miss Granger, Potter, Weasley?"

Harry and Ron nodded, looking warily at Snape who looked quite ready to bite their heads off. Hermione in Harry's arm was stiff as a board and a bit pale. The detentions were taking a toll on her; even with her free days in between she wasn't nearly sleeping as much as she should.

Snape's brooding stare was resting on Hermione's tired form, not glancing left or right at the nervous House Elves that were uncertainly shuffling closer, wanting to know what they could do to serve. With visible effort Snape got out of his contemplation. This time, his voice had an air of finality to it.

"Miss Granger, see that you go to bed soon, you'll need your rest. I don't fancy having my lab swamped without reason." With that Snape turned briskly and exited the kitchen. The portrait quietly clicked shut behind him.

The second he was gone Hermione slumped bonelessly against Harry's chest and clung to his cloak.

"Oh," she sobbed, "he-he is-"

"Ssh," Sirius said softly, "I know he's a bastard but don't let him get to you." He patted her head but wasn't very successful in making her feel better.

Harry sighed. He really got a feeling that Snape wasn't such a bastard as he led people on to believe. After all he'd just permitted Hermione to use his lab. For her it had to be a great achievement.

Of course, telling Sirius such a thing was out of the question, at least right now. He wouldn't understand the drive between Snape and Hermione, that they were constantly going at each others' throats. Harry had known the signs as soon as he heard about it: both Snape and Hermione were trying to best each other and had yet to find solid ground to tread on to even try. It was scary and in his opinion everybody else should stay away until the fight was over. And knowing Hermione's stubbornness it could take a while.

Dobby was the only House Elf brave enough to bring Hermione her requested cup of tea. Remus was angrily berating Sirius for his treatment of Snape while Ron looked a little bit green around his eyes. Harry grimaced. This night certainly wasn't what he had hoped it would be.

Hermione was slowly getting back her wits and wiped her eyes resolutely. "Thank you, Dobby," she said. Her voice sounded determined.

"Dobby is trying to please Harry Potter Sir's friends," replied Dobby modestly and shuffled off to help the other House Elves prepare the big tea kettles for breakfast.

"You really shouldn't insult them by trying to free them," said Sirius once Dobby was out of earshot. He looked distinctly ruffled and chastised but that didn't lessen the humour in his voice. "House Elves are very proud to work for us humans."

"I can't believe they like being treated as slaves," said Hermione stubbornly.

"But they do," said Ron in exasperation and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Don't get started on it again, 'Mione. Hogwarts needs the House Elves and you know it."

Harry was inclined to side with Ron on that. Still, it was too late to argue about such trivial things. "Come on, let's spend some quality time," he said, successfully breaking up the impending argument.

They settled at the table and drank their tea and ate little pastries that Dobby had left for them.

"So, do tell, how are you doing with school?" Sirius asked as soon as he had sat down. "Anything new we should know?"

"Not really," said Harry. "I resolved my … business with Malfoy and everything is fine now." He threw Hermione a nasty glance. "After I had to break my first wizard's oath I had with him we finally sorted everything out."

"What business?" Remus asked, mildly interested. "You weren't fighting again, were you?"

Harry had the grace to look ashamed. "Well, we got in a scuffle and my scarf got burned, so we agreed upon him getting me a new scarf and me getting his as compensation for a week." He felt even worse for lying to Remus and Sirius than he had to Ron and Hermione. Which was astounding since he had felt quite bad about that already.

Remus sighed. "As much as I'd like you to have fun, be careful with who you argue, all right?"

Harry and Ron nodded while Hermione seemed rather smug that they got a lecture.

Frowning, Sirius leaned over the table and looked intensely at Harry. "Somehow I don't think that this is all, my dear godson. Care to finish the tale?"

Harry scowled. "That's none of your business. All you need to know is that Malfoy and I agreed to a truce. No sniping, no fighting. Everybody is happy."

"How did you manage _that_?" Hermione asked, a curious frown etched onto her face. "You didn't exactly tell us how. We only notice that he's keeping out of our way. For once," she added as an afterthought.

Harry blushed and had no way to hide it. "You don't want to know."

Remus and Sirius raised both eyebrows while Ron was gagging slightly.

"Don't tell me he actually _does_ fancy you," he choked, turning rather red.

Harry sighed. "Of course not. Look, I just recited that sonnet to him and-"

"You did _what_?" Sirius and Hermione roared.

"A sonnet. I recited it to him," said Harry patiently as if talking to dumb children. "You knew I planned that."

"We never thought you'd really _do_ that!" yelped Ron in outrage. His healthy, pink face had once again gone rather white.

"Honestly, Harry, a poem?" Hermione huffed. "I thought Katie had delusions when she told me that you actually got that book from her." She looked shrewdly at him. "I guess I underestimated you and your impulsiveness once again."

"Oi!" said Harry, feeling rather put out that she didn't think him able to get through with a promise. "It worked, didn't it?"

"I don't want to know how," muttered Ron. "Hopefully you didn't seal that achievement with a kiss. That would just be too much …"

"Actually-," Harry started but was cut off by Sirius clamping his hand over his mouth.

"Whatever you _did_ do, keep it to yourself," he said sternly. "We don't need to know how. It's yours, Harry."

Harry was seriously confused about Sirius' insistent voice. He tried to flatten his wayward hair with a sweaty hand when he was released but wasn't very successful.

Remus looked at him carefully, almost scrutinising him. More than once Harry had a feeling that his eyes flickered down to his right hand. The kiss mark had vanished, finally, but even though Harry hadn't worn gloves all the time to hide it nobody had commented on it. Could it be that nobody had even _seen_ it? That would be too weird. And yet Remus seemed to know exactly that something was up with him.

"Harry, are you afraid to tell us something?" Remus asked quietly. "You practically reek of fear and nervousness. Whatever it is, we won't bite."

Snorting, Harry shook his head. "It's nothing, really." _Nothing you could stomach, anyway_, he thought grimly. Being accosted by both Malfoys in only two days was certainly nothing he could easily stomach himself.

Sirius snorted in kind. "Whatever, Harry. Just don't do something stupid." He relaxed in his chair and raked both hands through his long hair. "By the way, we found some trustworthy Wiccans and contacted them. There is one witch, Diane Lovegood, she practically jumped at the chance to ask for asylum at Hogwarts. She said that she'd bring her coven with her. Seems like the Death Eaters became aware of them lately."

"That must be Luna's gran," said Ron in excitement.

"Do you think Dumbledore will let them in?" Hermione asked sorrowfully. "All I can think of is Fudge and Umbridge. They'll try to forbid it."

"Fudge and Umbridge are powerless when it comes to Hogwarts," said Sirius with a dark voice. "They may infiltrate its walls and place stupid restrictions on the teachers and students, but the castle itself will never bow to them."

Remus was absently scratching Sirius' back when he nodded. "And the rights that enable a headmaster at Hogwarts to make certain decisions definitely overrule that of the Minister, strange as it sounds. Asylum always was a right everybody could call upon, especially in times of war or the ostracism of minorities. Dumbledore won't let Fudge get away with his ideas a second time, you'll see."

"And we promised to help him," said Hermione, sipping her tea thoughtfully. "When do these Wiccans arrive?"

"Oh, I don't know for sure," replied Sirius with a wink, "but it will be soon enough to bring some fresh air into the castle."

"We hope so," said Harry and Ron in unison and chortled about it.

Remus and Sirius asked several questions about the DA training; thankfully Hermione and Remus thought about putting a silencing bubble up to keep the House Elves away. Harry did most of the talking and he was, although he didn't really like doing it, censoring what he told them.

He explained his two godfathers everything about the DA, and that Cho and Corner had left the group. He didn't tell them about his secret attempts to gain access to Voldemort's mind, or that he planned his own little ploy to prepare for the new attack.

Sirius and Remus listened attentively and didn't ask too many questions. Everybody was tired and so the conversation finally turned to much safer topics, like grades and homework and possible secret crushes.

"I don't have one and I don't want one," said Harry firmly when Sirius' goading became too much. "We're all tired, we should go back."

Hermione and Ron grinned meaningfully and were not doing a very good job of hiding it behind their hands. Remus chuckled and stood.

"Harry's right," he said, "you should go to bed. Sirius and I have yet to see Dumbledore to get a portkey back to you-know-where. And I guess Snape is just waiting for you to come out so he can get a few points out of this."

"Yeah, sounds like him," growled Ron. He snatched the last pastry on the plate and ate it.

"Well then, let's go," said Hermione with a tired sigh. She stood and brushed her skirt off. "I'm glad we can sleep in tomorrow."

Harry offered her his arm, receiving a scowl from Ron in return. He smirked over her head and raised both eyebrows. Sirius and Remus snickered; sometimes Ron was too obvious for his own good.

They shuffled out of the kitchen and waited in the corridor until everybody was out. Remus patted Ron's and Harry's shoulder and petted Hermione's hair and Sirius hugged them all before he closed the kitchen portrait behind him and shut the warm, welcoming light out.

"Go quickly, and take care of her," he said warmly before he ruffled Harry's hair one last time. "Oh, and here is a little something from Jerold and his girlfriend. You remember the young werewolf from the holidays?"

"Of course," said Harry, startled. "Whatever could he be giving me?"

Sirius laughed. "I believe he gave you some private lessons, lad. It's something to get you back on track."

Harry took the offered, shrunken parcel in wonder and turned it around curiously. "Well, tell him thank you from me. I'll write him a letter later, if that's all right."

"Of course," smirked Sirius. "My, my, Harry, you're barely out of your nappies and already you have admirers knocking down your door."

Hermione and Ron tittered at that, throwing Harry meaningful looks.

"Yes, anyway, it was nice to see you two. Now it's time to part and whatnot. Get back safely, goodbye," Harry rushed to say. Everybody laughed. Sirius poked Harry lightly in the shoulder and then it really was time for them to go.

Remus smiled at them while Sirius grinned. They linked their hands before they strode off in the opposite direction. Harry started to walk, too, dragging an almost dozing Hermione with him. Ron followed like a shadow, watching out carefully if Peeves or Snape were close.

They reached Gryffindor Tower without incident and scrambled to bed as quickly as they could manage. Harry only got to take his memories out of his head and into the Pensieve before sleep grasped him powerfully and he was dead to the world.

* * *

The next few weeks passed with no change. Around the beginning of February Luna was again seen picking things from the Room of Requirement. When Harry asked her she explained that she wanted to celebrate Imbolc and was preparing for a ritual in honour of Brigid, the goddess that stood for home and hearth. Harry knew that Luna would make it a feast but he was too shy to ask her if he could possibly partake.

This didn't mean that he wouldn't notice the outcome, though. It was February the second, Monday night. He, Hermione and Ron were sitting in the Great Hall and just waiting to escort Hermione to detention, when they felt it: a surge of warm, flittering magic raced through the Great Hall and touched every student and teacher before it breezed through the thick, ancient walls and was gone again.

Gasps and small cries were heard from all four tables, and for a second most teachers looked in bewilderment at their hands and around the hall. Dumbledore remained calm, however, and only smiled at a furiously whispering Professor McGonagall.

"Luna is getting stronger," said Hermione and ate her buttered bread thoughtfully. "To help her honour Brigid we could eat a bit of that stew. It has lots of strong spices in it. And drink some milk." She helped herself to stew and milk and started to eat hungrily.

Ron's eyebrows rose. "You really believe in this, don't you?" he asked, half in awe and half in amusement.

Hermione smiled leniently. "It's different. And a whole lot more logical than the Christian beliefs. At least for me. I think I'll ask Luna if she can introduce me formally to Wicca."

Harry wondered if he should do that, too. It sounded promising, and a lot of the Wicca techniques he could also use for Occlumency and Legilimency. The only setback was their lack of time. He was finally out of detention because Crabbe and Goyle were (actually Snape had thrown them out in frustration as it didn't seem as if Crabbe and Goyle were even attempting to work) but he found he missed the quiet hours to do some legitimate cramming.

"It's almost time," Harry reminded her. "I'll walk you down to Snape's office."

"Thank you." Hermione looked gratefully at him and seemed rather nervous. "It's my first night in his lab. I hope I'm not going to do anything stupid in there. I don't want him hating me again. We just came off of that inane I-loathe-you-so leave-me-the-hell-alone rubbish."

A few minutes later Ron and Harry had escorted Hermione to the dungeons. Snape was raising both eyebrows at them, clearly inquiring about their protectiveness of Hermione. He didn't say anything, though, just slammed the door in their faces. Ron returned to Gryffindor Tower, but Harry wasn't really up for company. Instead he wandered through the halls, the invisibility cloak in his pocket, just in case.

His feet carried him to the Room of Requirement on their own volition, not that Harry minded. At once he saw the door in the long stretch of wall and decided to pay Luna a little visit. He knocked loudly to warn her before he pushed the heavy, wooden door open and stepped through.

The room looked so magnificent that Harry couldn't quite keep his stunned gasp back. Candles were everywhere, illuminating the dark room romantically. The walls were decorated with large hams in nets, bindings of grain, tapestries showing grand meals of roasted meat, milk and bread, spinning wheels and a lot more things that represented home and hearth. On the ground candles were forming a pattern, resulting in a large circle. In its centre Luna sat and meditated.

"Hello, Harry," said Luna absently, smiling vaguely. "What brings you here?"

"I-er," Harry stuttered. "Well, I hoped you'd still be here but I don't want to disturb you or anything."

Luna opened her pale, misty eyes and her smile widened. "Of course you can stay. Come sit with me." She took a small knife with black handle, got up and cut into the air where her circle was drawn. To others it might have looked strange but Harry thought he saw a flitter of gold along the cut-edges. "Come through this door."

Harry unconsciously toed out of his trainers and followed the invitation. He was too transfixed by the whole thing to resist his curiosity. And hadn't he wanted to partake in the ritual? Carefully he stepped through the entrance Luna had made for him. Now he really saw the golden light zip along the edges. When he was through she closed the entrance again with a soothing motion of her hand.

"It's nice of you to come and visit," she said happily.

"We all felt a funny energy in the Great Hall," said Harry carefully. "It felt good though."

"Brigid is a very generous lady," replied Luna softly. "I asked her to bless Hogwarts, to give it a bit more protection against evil and she did. I owe her my gratitude."

Harry knew that Luna was right. A lot of children, including himself, considered Hogwarts their home, and they had to be grateful for any support they got.

"Do you want to feel her, too?" Luna asked invitingly. "You can, you know. Just clear your mind, ground and centre and let her come to you."

Harry nodded, too stricken for words. He settled comfortably next to Luna, closed his eyes and almost immediately drowned in a trance that was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He saw the elements rushing by, greeting him merrily, and then he connected to Hogwarts and to the earth, feeling the incredible, indescribable power flood him like a high tide, rendering him breathless with its beauty. He thought of Brigid, thought of thanking her for her help and felt a warm, soft hand caress his heart in a motherly touch. His mind was racing, he was craving that warm lap to snuggle in, to fall asleep and let her take his worries away.

When Harry woke up from his jumbled, feverish dreams, his lashes were wet. He wiped his eyes with his sleeve, noticing how shaky his hands were. Luna was regarding him calmly in silent understanding. Her pale face glowed in the darkness, caressed by the golden shine of the nearly burnt-down candles.

"She felt like my mother," Harry choked out when he could finally talk. "I remember sitting on her lap when I was a baby. Oh God …"

"Our mothers never really leave us," Luna explained gently when Harry had recovered a bit. "It's why I love Imbolc so much."

"Thank you so much," said Harry hoarsely. He felt too exhausted to be embarrassed. Luna inched closer and stroked his arm reassuringly, and in the spur of the moment Harry reached out for her and pulled her in a tight embrace. "Thank you."

"You're very welcome, Harry," whispered Luna back, rubbing Harry's back comfortingly.

Later, when Harry was lying in his bed, he thought about that sensation again, of the warm, loving touch he had felt. It had been better than anything he had ever felt before and his heart swelled with love for the parents he had never really known. In his mind he embraced them both tightly before sleep claimed him and made him forget any grief for the night.

* * *

The days passed by with alarming speed. Valentine's day came and went and Harry, Ron and Hermione went to Hogsmeade together, making use of the opportunity to see Fred and George again. Katie and Angelina joined them, giggling excitedly and whispering to each other. They had lunch together in the Three Broomsticks and talked a good deal about the DA and their plans but soon it was obvious that Fred and George wanted to spend some time with their girlfriends, so Harry, Hermione and Ron left them and wandered aimlessly around for the rest of the afternoon.

Harry shuddered when they passed Madame Puddifoot's café, and Ron gagged when they stumbled upon Blaise and Seamus snogging in a back alley and cooing sweet nothings at each other.

"It sure is disgusting," said Hermione reasonably when they had also seen Hannah and Ernie making out behind a shop, "but at some point we'll all want for something like this."

Ron gagged again, but Harry had to admit that Hermione was right. At some point, he was sure, he _was_ going to look for the right person.

Other than this Valentine's day, however, they didn't have much time for such musings on life. Soon it was already the end of February and the first, tentative signs of spring could be seen. The days got longer again, and the chirping of birds seemed louder when the students went outside for Herbology, Care of Magical Creatures or Apparating class.

Harry, Ron and Hermione had had DA meetings even on weekdays during the past month and tried to teach as much as possible. Harry had tried to get tuned to the Dark Lord's moods. He didn't have a feeling that it had worked, he only knew that he was tired like never before since his attempts usually left him too weak and agitated to sleep. In return, he was feeling even more repercussions of Voldemort's nightly doings than usual, which put him on edge as well. If it hadn't been for Luna and her help he would have long since snapped at someone.

It was Friday and Snape had been in a particularly vicious mood. Blaise and Harry had boils covering their arms while Hannah Abbott was sporting a shiner from a ladle that had accidentally come to life and had hit her in the eye. Malfoy's hair looked pinkish; his potion had actually exploded before eating its way through the table, and Luna had burns on her hands because she had tried to save the cauldron from tipping over completely. Even Hermione and Terry had messed up; Hermione had only turned for a second to help Blaise treat his wounds and then it was already too late, Terry had stirred wrongly and their potion had bubbled over merrily. The only one unharmed was Ernie McMillan, and considering the black look Snape was giving them all he wouldn't be for long.

All in all it was the most horrible lesson they had had since the beginning of the school year. Snape was glowering at them through narrowed eyes and deducted points left, right and centre.

"I can't believe you, you imbeciles!" he snarled angrily. "Never in my time as teacher have I seen such all-encompassing ineptness, not even with Longbottom in class! All four potions ruined! Rare ingredients wasted! I dare not ask what had you distracted!"

Eight pair of eyes looked meekly at ruined tables. For once nobody could blame Snape for erupting like that.

"Detention for all of you!" hissed Snape. "Without exception," he added menacingly when he spotted Malfoy's rebellious glare. "Abbott, McMillan and Boot, you will report to Filch. Malfoy, Granger, Potter, you are going to Hagrid. Lovegood and Zabini, you'll serve detention with me." He prowled to Hermione's table and prodded the garish liquid with a ladle, making it sizzle ominously. "Miss Granger, you have one chance to brew this correctly, otherwise it'll be a zero for you."

"Thank you, Sir," said Hermione, sounding equally grateful and angry.

"Why can't _we_ try again, too?" Ernie asked angrily. "Why does only Hermione get another chance?"

Snape smirked unpleasantly. "Because I know for a fact that you'd mess up anyway, McMillan. I'd rather not waste my time and resources."

With that Snape threw them out of the classroom and slammed the door after them. Nobody could really argue with Snape's reasoning, but it was still unfair. Dejected and downcast, they split up and made their way to their respective common rooms to get cleaned up.

"People could really think he's favouring you, however stupid that is," said Harry reasonably when Hermione wouldn't stop ranting about Ernie's words.

"Yes, but Ernie doesn't know that I brewed the same stupid potion already in detention," said Hermione in agitation. "Snape knows I can do it, that's why I got another chance!"

"Which is still nicer of him than just giving you a zero," replied Harry. "I guess he's going soft on you after two months of detention."

"Oh, don't you start with me now, Harry Potter! _Fluffy Puff_!" cried Hermione, slamming the portrait of the Fat Lady open with some force. "He knows exactly what to expect from me when he's getting unjust again, but that has nothing to do with 'becoming soft'. He's just worried that Dumbledore will put us together for another two months, and we both can do without that!"

Harry watched in morbid fascination how Hermione pulled at her hair and paced like a cat in a cage. "It's your last day tomorrow, isn't it?"

"Yes, and I'm not looking forward to it," growled Hermione. "The git has such a huge library and I didn't get to see everything, even though I tried. I think I might have to go back every now and then and see if I can borrow some books."

"Don't count on it," said Harry. He waved his wand over his robes and cleaned the spillage of the lesson. He then put his heavy book bag down. "I better get going to the infirmary to get these healed," he said, looking at the angry welts on his forearms. "They hurt like a bitch."

"I'll come with you." Hermione cleaned her robes as well, raked both hands through her hair to make it look more orderly and then swung her bag over her shoulder. She, of course, would go to the library later.

Madam Pomfrey wasn't too happy with Harry for showing up yet again. In the back of the large room Harry spotted Blaise and Malfoy sitting on a bed, talking with each other. Blaise's arms were covered in thick bandages. Luna was sitting by herself, staring at her burnt hands as if hypnotised. Hannah was nowhere to be seen, maybe her eye had already been healed.

"What _are_ you doing in class?" Madam Pomfrey asked when she was coating Harry's forearms in a violently neon-blue paste. "Didn't Professor Snape watch out for you lot? Honestly, one of these days someone will lose and eye, or some fingers!"

Harry turned green at the thought. After witnessing Wormtail cut his own hand off he was a bit squeamish about such things. Madam Pomfrey wound his arms in bandages and told him strictly to keep them on until tomorrow. Then he was to come back for examination.

"There, that went better than anticipated," said Hermione. "Can you hold your wand?" When Harry nodded, she said, "Excellent. Maybe we can go to the Room of Requirement for some training. I'll just go a bit later to the library."

They skipped lunch and Hermione told the other members of the DA via the fake galleon that there would be an impromptu meeting for some extra training. It was gratifying to see that almost everyone turned up, ready to practice some more.

After last month's strict tutelage everybody in the DA was able to do most basic spells soundlessly. Some were even able to summon things wandlessly, or to switch the lights on and off. Once again Neville was improving greatly, giving Seamus and Dean and even Ron a good run for their money. Everybody was spurred on by their achievements, and the hope was burning in them to actually _matter_, to be able to change things for the better.

Harry went early to dinner. He was ravenous, and he also had Occlumency with Snape tonight, meaning he would need his strength to fend the man off. After today's Potions lesson he was ready for anything Snape might throw at him.

That Harry was alone for once attracted the attention of many students. Harry could feel their eyes on him and he glanced up occasionally, catching Cho and Malfoy in the process. Cho looked away, blushing, but Malfoy was staring imploringly at Harry, not even pretending to be ashamed. Only after Harry had left the Great Hall he realised that Pansy Parkinson hadn't been sitting next to Malfoy this time.

Deep in thought, Harry ventured down to the dungeons, his feet carrying him there without problems. He didn't notice the shadows following him, but even if he had, he wouldn't have worried. After training with the DA for so long he trusted his abilities and his instincts.

Arriving at Snape's door, he noticed that he was a few minutes early. Instead of fidgeting or waiting like usual he just knocked and waited for Snape's callous invitation.

Upon entering Harry already saw that Snape was looking ill and pale, as if his health had gone downhill rapidly in the few hours between their lesson and now. His black eyes glittered dangerously in the dim lamp light but his stance was defensive, not as confident as usual.

"Evening, Professor," said Harry carefully, eyeing the man closely. Was that sweat on Snape's forehead?

"Wand out, Potter," said Snape hoarsely; even his voice had lost its silky quality. "Let's get this over with as quickly as possible."

Harry decided to throw caution out of the window. "Are you feeling all right, Sir?" he asked, making sure not to sound too concerned.

"Well enough to have this lesson," sneered Snape, although his sneer lacked its usual fervour. "I said wand out." He brandished his own wand. "Legilimens!"

Harry blocked, almost shocked at how easy it was. Something was definitely not right with the man, and he was determined to find out what. Without any scruples whatsoever he forced Snape back a few steps and then shouted, "Legilimens!"

As if sucked into a dark tunnel Harry flew into Snape's mind, and what he saw shocked him. Snape was troubled beyond the usual, deeply troubled if the jumbling mess of conflicting pictures and images was any indication. All of Snape's defences were down, and Harry had a sense of overwhelming guilt and fear.

He picked one of the pictures and entered it, freezing when he saw Lord Voldemort featuring it. His cold, high voice boomed in the vastness of Snape's mind, "_It must be done! Either you or the other, I don't care, just do it soon!_" Suddenly there was a shabby door in front of Voldemort and Harry couldn't explain its sudden appearance. He stretched out his hand to open it but an invisible force pulled him away.

Harry was propelled out of the thought and quickly turned to another, only to witness Snape screaming in agony when Voldemort cursed him with the Cruciatus Curse.

Another thought, Snape was rigid with fear and loathing, but opposite of him stood Dumbledore, not Voldemort …

Harry sifted through many thoughts and memories, feeling sick and angry and helpless all at once. At moments he pitied Snape for everything he had to endure, and sometimes he wished that he'd gotten even more. In situations like these he was absolutely conflicted about whether he hated the man or felt with him. Perhaps it was both.

The last image Harry saw, out of Snape's point of view this time, was the ceiling of the infirmary and an all-encompassing feeling of resignation and depression, feelings so strong that Harry believed that Snape might have wished to die just then.

After that Harry didn't want to see more. He left Snape's mind and was just quick enough to catch the man's falling body. Snape's heartbeat was erratic, and he was sweating out of stress. Harry wondered how he could have ever thought of fighting against him in this state.

"Potter, you ungrateful-," Snape hissed, trying weakly to wrench himself out of Harry's firm grasp.

"Shut up," said Harry coolly. "I'll get you to the hospital wing and I'll get Professor Dumbledore. I think you need to talk to someone."

"Not Dumbledore," rasped Snape, clawing at Harry's arms. His skin looked so ashen that Harry feared he would faint on him for real. "Just leave me be, Potter."

"Like hell I will," retorted Harry and proceeded to drag Snape in the general direction of the door. "And if you continue to dig your heels into the floor like a stubborn mule I'll get them both here."

Snape looked as if he had difficulty breathing, so Harry loosened his collar and then dragged Snape out of his office. Now he had at least marginal support from his charge, and the trek was soon over. He dumped Snape on a bed, drawing a deep breath. Snape didn't look it but he was quite heavy. Madam Pomfrey came over in a rush as soon as she had spotted the pair and was making a great fuss over Snape.

"What happened, Potter? Did you two get into a fight again?" she asked shrilly, waving her wand over Snape's prone body. Against the white infirmary sheets he looked even sicker than before, and his black eyes were alight with fever.

"No," replied Harry defensively. "He already wasn't feeling well when I came to his office around eight. I think he's stressed out but I wouldn't know why." Snape's glare was designed to kill and Harry just knew that, had Snape his wand right now, he would have been cursed for that comment.

"Too much adrenaline, racing heart, constricting stomach-," Madam Pomfrey clucked disapprovingly and went to fetch a bottle.

"Potter, you'll pay for this," Snape ground out between laboured breaths as soon as she was gone. "Don't stick your nose into things that aren't your concern!"

Harry sat in a chair, coolly ignoring Snape's threats. "You know, whatever Voldemort wants you to do, you could talk to Dumbledore about it. He'll help you."

"You know _nothing_, stupid boy," panted Snape, now holding his stomach in obvious pain. "Nothing at all!"

"You shouldn't talk so much, Severus," chided Madam Pomfrey, stepping up to them. She unscrewed a large bottle and poured a healthy amount of the contents into a glass, shoving it under Snape's prominent nose. "Drink up, my boy, and it'll get better."

Harry chortled about Snape's predicament and rose. "Well, I've got to go. Get better soon, Sir, and don't forget to talk to Dumbledore." He left the infirmary slowly, hoping to pick up something interesting. On his way out he heard Madam Pomfrey activating the fireplace with Floo powder, probably informing the headmaster that Snape was ill.

Sighing, he stepped into the cold corridor and decided to go back to Gryffindor Tower. There was much left of the evening and he had a small mountain of homework to finish. While walking Harry was thinking about Snape's thoughts. Something bad had happened, of that he was sure. Either Snape was forced to do something dreadful by Voldemort, or he was worried about failing what Voldemort had told him to do. Whatever it was, it was making him sick.

Harry couldn't claim that he trusted Snape, although the last few months had been a bit more tolerable than the years before. There had always been the option that Snape really was a loyal spy for Voldemort, and nothing Dumbledore said could ever convince Harry of the contrary.

Still, what he had seen today was shocking, and he was truly worried about Snape. Hopefully he would get better soon.

Hermione and Ron were suitably surprised to have Harry back so soon. After putting up a silencing barrier around their sofa he told them quickly what had happened, and to their credit his friends seemed just as shocked and affected as Harry had been. Especially Hermione looked worried and downcast.

"Do you think he will, you know, die?" Ron asked into the uncomfortable silence that had settled between them.

"Don't say that," said Hermione quietly. She looked ready to cry. "I don't want to think about that. He _can't_ die. Hogwarts wouldn't be the same without him." Her wet eyes settled on Harry. "And we _need_ him."

Harry sighed and scooped her into his arms. "What worries me most is the possibility that he's still loyal to Voldemort. We can't ignore that. I know what I saw and felt."

Hermione shuddered and sobbed into his shoulder. Alicia, Katie and Angelina worriedly looked over to them but Harry motioned for them to let them be. Reluctantly they sat back, chancing a last look at Hermione's small figure before returning to their homework. Others, who had seen the exchange, also turned away.

Ron seemed at a loss how to deal with Hermione's tears and looked at Harry, searching for help. "He wouldn't, would he?" he asked quietly. "Dumbledore offered him a job and a new life, didn't he?"

Harry just shrugged. "I never know with Snape," he said, defeated. Hermione's weight in his arms made him sad, because he knew how she believed in Snape. No matter how prickly the man was, she was still convinced that he was on their side. Harry just hoped that Snape wouldn't disappoint all of them.

"It will be okay," he murmured into her hair and softly stroked over her back. "You'll see, he was just stressed out."

Hermione just buried her face deeper in the folds of Harry's pullover, clinging to him. Ron scooted closer and awkwardly petted her hair, looking distraught and insecure.

For a long while they just sat there, cuddling with each other and searching comfort in each other. Nobody thought of homework, and when it was time to go to bed Harry did so with a hollow feeling in his chest.

That same night Harry didn't try to avoid Voldemort when he had put his memories in the Pensieve. In fact he even encouraged all his thoughts about him to come on to him. He wondered what could possibly prompt Snape to return to that monster, and to serve him faithfully instead of trying to live his own life. What had convinced Lucius Malfoy to follow Voldemort? Such a proud and arrogant man bowing to someone like Voldemort seemed preposterous to Harry, if not sick and twisted.

Pictures of his arch nemesis crashed down on Harry, beckoning him in. Harry followed the flow and dove deeper into the abyss that opened before him. The pictures changed, now they didn't only show Harry's memories of Voldemort but also Voldemort's memories of his doings.

In the back of his mind Harry was appalled that it should be so easy after all his efforts, but the thought quickly vanished when he saw the memory of his parents' death. The picture of the Dark Lord staring at his mother grew larger and larger. With zooming speed Harry raced directly into Voldemort's hooded face and delved into the dark shadows.

It was like falling into the rabbit hole from Alice in Wonderland: Harry fell through a tunnel that was stuffed with the strangest things. Old umbrellas, toasters, shabby curtains, old, mouldy schoolbooks and even a chandelier floated upwards among a million other things while Harry fell downwards. The dim light changed every now and then, wrapping Harry in shadows before spitting him out into lamplight again.

Finally, after a small eternity, Harry left the tunnel and unconsciously took a deep breath. Only now he realised what a bad stench had been in that tunnel. The air now was only marginally better, but at least it was cool and crisp. He stopped falling and was now merely floating, like a ghost.

Shadows shrouded the room in darkness which was only illuminated by some weak torch lights. Through a window wane moonlight filtered into the room. It was disrupted every now and then from quickly wandering clouds. White masks and pale faces glowed and vanished again with that light. Harry felt floaty inside, seeing all of this from above. He was cold with fear and disgust, like always when he was forced to witness Voldemort during his nightly meetings.

"Nott is stationed in St Mungo's, in the intensive care unit," a hooded and masked man said in a monotone voice. It reverberated in the vast room. "He's alive, but only barely so."

A high, brittle voice laughed shrilly. "Very good, Avery, very good." Voldemort, dressed in a red cloak, got up from his chair. "Be sure, my dear friends, that each of you will face the same fate if you fail to do my bidding." He glared along his ranks and then sneered. "I do not take kindly to traitors and failure." He turned around and turned his terrible, red-eyed gaze on Wormtail, who had been hiding behind his chair. "Wormtail! Why is Severus absent?"

"I-I don't know, Master," squeaked Wormtail in his disgustingly oily voice. "He should be here, he knew of this meeting …"

_Maybe this meeting was the reason why Snape is sick_, thought Harry hatefully. He really couldn't blame the man; Voldemort reeked of foulness and death.

"Silence, you idiot!" shrieked Voldemort. "See that you find out why he didn't come! I need to speak with him soon!"

Wormtail cowered. "Yes, Master, of course, as you wish." He bowed, although he couldn't get much closer to the ground in his already kneeling position.

"Master, why do we need Snape? I know of several Potions Masters who would gladly join our course," a man with a rough, snarling voice asked.

Voldemort turned back to the assembled group. He had his wand in his thin, pale fingers. His expressionless face gave nothing away, but the small whisper of, "Crucio!" and the following screams showed that he was angered.

"Idiots, all of you!" he snarled when he had finally released his victim from the curse. With a few steps he advanced on his gathered followers, only to have them retreat a foot in sheer terror. "Severus is the only one with access to Hogwarts' most precious bits. He will find them and he will work to destroy them."

"And what about Dumbledore?" a young female voice asked defiantly. "Snape is Dumbledore's little pet, I doubt that he's unscrupulous enough to go and find the ground stones for you." She sneered. "He wouldn't dare."

Harry froze. He _knew_ that voice. Oh, he knew it well enough because it had threatened him several times in the last months.

Pansy Parkinson had joined her parents in Voldemort's ranks, and she was reporting to him.

Even if this was a dream and he had no body Harry felt as if his insides had turned into ice, ice colder than anything he could ever have imagined. With her inside of Hogwarts Voldemort did stand a good chance of turning the powers in his favour. Harry wanted to scream about it all. The plan, Voldemort's real plan, seemed ridiculously unimportant right now, although this in itself was enough to make him ill.

"Don't fear, my dear Pansy. Severus will do his part. I know him too well." Voldemort's lipless mouth stretched into an eerie smirk. "Maybe he tasted the freedom for too long, but he will return. He always does."

The moonlight was back and now Harry could see Pansy's cold, sneering face. Gone was the hysterical girl from school, in her place now stood a cold and calculating woman who would do anything to get what she wanted. The light wandered and crossed other Death Eaters. Some were still with mask but most of them were without. Among them, in the first line, stood Lucius Malfoy and his wife. While Lucius' face betrayed nothing Narcissa's gloating smile made Harry's non-corporeal hair stand on end.

"Ah, Narcissa, now tell me what Dolores is doing right now," demanded Voldemort softly, gliding over to where the Malfoys stood. "Is everything going according to plan?"

"Certainly, my Lord," replied Narcissa in her smooth voice. "Dolores is excited to come back to Hogwarts. She's very grateful that you granted her a second chance." She curtsied elegantly and smiled. "And she has everything planned out to keep the students in line this time. Everything is done, now we only have to wait until Fudge has gotten his will through." Her smile vanished. "The Wizengamot has turned a bit rebellious, I'm afraid."

"I'll grant the time," said Voldemort. His pale finger traced Narcissa's cheek, and then he turned around and glided back to his chair. "But do tell him that I want to see some results soon."

"Of course, my Lord," said Narcissa and curtsied again. A row behind her Bellatrix glared at her sister.

"And Lucius," said Voldemort in a soft voice, "if he needs longer than until the Easter holidays you'll give him a bit of a push."

"Gladly, my Lord," said Lucius evenly. His voice was void of emotion, just like his face.

Harry wished to be very, very far away from here. He was feeling sick. There was no triumph over being right about Voldemort having a second plan. Frantically he searched for a possibility to get out of this nightmare. He barely listened when McNair reported that more Wiccans had been found who were willing to aid Voldemort with his plan, there were just too many names.

With everything he had he concentrated on the Triwizarding Tournament, on Cedric's death and the terror he had felt then. His rage and fear flooded him hotly like a tide of lava, he saw Cedric's body lying on the ground, pale and surprised and lifeless. A sharp, painful tug catapulted Harry out of this dream, and the last thing he heard was Voldemort's high-pitched cackling.

"Oh! Our Harry has a little nightmare!" crooned Voldemort sweetly when he noticed the strong emotion coming from Harry. Death Eaters laughed sinisterly, jeering wickedly.

With a scream Harry woke up.

* * *

"Ron! Ron, wake up, damn it!" yelled Harry, roughly shaking Ron by the shoulders. "_Ron_!"

"'M awake," mumbled Ron thickly after a minute or two. Two unbearable minutes for Harry. "Harry, what's up?" He struggled to sit up.

"I had a vision!" whispered Harry furiously. "Voldemort! I need to talk to you and 'Mione. Now!"

Ron was awake at once. "I'm coming," he said quietly. He got out of his bed and pulled a robe over his gangly body. "How do we wake 'Mione?"

"Dobby," said Harry at once. "I already sent him. Let's go down to the common room."

Ron followed, yawning mightily but nonetheless fully alert. Hermione sat on the couch closest to the fireplace. A fire was burning already, warming the chilly air. Dobby stood next to her, looking concerned.

"Dobby brought tea and sandwiches, Harry Potter Sir," he squeaked. "I is hoping that Harry Potter is all right."

"Thank you, Dobby," said Harry, smiling tightly at the House Elf. "Please go now, and don't tell Dumbledore, okay?"

"Dobby will do as Harry Potter wishes," said Dobby. He bowed and then popped away.

"Harry, what _happened_?" Hermione asked worriedly. Her face was a bit swollen from sleep, and she looked haggard from the pressure everything and everybody seemed to place upon her. "You look dreadful!"

Harry ushered Ron to sit down on the couch, then he sat himself. They all covered themselves with the thick blankets that had been lying on the sofa, and only then did Harry feel calm enough to tell them what he had seen.

He told them his dream and what he had learned. He tried to tell them every bit as he had seen and experienced it, and their terrified faces were only confirming what he already knew: they were doomed.

"We need to go to Dumbledore!" said Hermione resolutely. She was pale and her lips were pressed together in a thin line.

"And we need to call a DA meeting," said Ron hotly. "In fact we should forget about Dumbledore and only have the DA meeting."

"I can't believe that Parkinson actually is a Death Eater," Hermione whimpered. "Oh god, if she is, how many more are already inside of Hogwarts?"

"I doubt that she has the Dark Mark," said Harry. An eerie calm had taken hold of him. He was beyond fear, now he was planning. "Just like Crabbe and Goyle. We'll have to inform Blaise." He sipped on his tea and closed his eyes for a moment.

"What about Dumbledore?" Hermione asked quietly. "We really should tell him. Voldemort has another plan, that alone is important enough."

"We were right, weren't we?" Ron looked grim and burnt out. He didn't even flinch anymore when Harry or Hermione said Voldemort's name out loud. "It really doesn't surprise me, though."

"Yes, Voldemort is rather unimaginative, isn't he?" said Harry with a sneer. "But what can we do about Hogwarts' ground stones? Nobody even knows where they are, or why they are so important."

Hermione smiled tiredly. "If only you would finally read _Hogwarts: A History_, it would save you so much trouble. The book doesn't tell where to find them, of course, but everybody who read it knows that the ground stones are the four anchors of Hogwarts. They hold the magic that provides the castle with energy, so to speak. If they are damaged or even destroyed all of Hogwarts' wards would fall in a second, leaving it unprotected. Forever. These wards can't be replaced."

"I assume that the four founders set the stones," replied Harry. "And that they are well hidden."

"Yes. It is _said_," Hermione stressed that, "that the ground stones are really some personal object of the four founders, something that has absorbed a great deal of personal magic."

"But nobody knows for sure?" Ron asked. Hermione just shook her head, looking defeated once again. "Damn. We can't just go to Dumbledore or the other teachers and ask. They'd get suspicious."

"I have an idea," said Harry slowly. "Do you remember that Remus gave me equipment for making a new Marauders' Map? He also explained to me how they made the Black Trap Map. They needed bits of the ground stones from Grimmauld Place for the ink …" He trailed off, and his suggestion hung heavy in the silent room.

"We will ask them," whispered Hermione, awed.

"Yes, but you have to do that alone," said Harry immediately. "I shouldn't know anything about this, in case Voldemort manages to get to me at last."

Ron shuddered. "All right, mate. 'Mione and I will contact them first thing tomorrow. You can fill in the others."

"Sounds like a plan," agreed Harry. "And if they get suspicious just tell them that we finally want to draw our own map, because the old one is falling apart."

They agreed on that and then just sat there. Oppressive silence hung over them. Only the cracking of the fire distracted them every now and then from their troubled thoughts. One by one the sandwiches disappeared from the plate, the tea was downed, and then they all decided to go back to bed, although Harry knew that there was no getting back to sleep for him.

* * *

Ron and Hermione had called Sirius and Remus first thing in the morning, just as they had said they would, and they had gotten their answers from the unsuspecting duo. For once they didn't suspect anything untoward for which Harry, Ron and Hermione were very grateful. In fact, Sirius had all but encouraged them.

The whole Saturday passed in a flurry of hectic meetings and whispered conversations in dark corners where no portraits hung and could listen in to what the members of the DA had to say. Harry told them all to redouble their efforts because things would get ugly soon. Everybody, even Smith, was determined to even triple their efforts and, to quote Ron, "Kick some stupid Death Eater asses good and hard."

The next thing on Harry's agenda was writing a letter to Fred and George. He did that with great relish, asking them for their inventions and if the DA could still count on their support.

In the evening Hermione made to leave the Great Hall right after lunch.

"But the greasy git is still in the infirmary," protested Ron hotly. "You don't have to go to detention tonight."

"Of course I'm not going to detention," said Hermione tartly. "Don't be stupid, Ron." She turned to Harry. "I'll see you both later. Do your homework for a change."

Harry and Ron watched her as she left. Ron was scowling and Harry fought back a grin that threatened to break on his face. She was so obvious sometimes, and Ron so incredibly slow on the uptake. He smothered his laughter manfully and turned back to his food.

That night he snuck out of the common room to enjoy the last minutes before curfew. Lately he didn't have much time for himself, and although he didn't mind he wanted and needed those few moments just the same.

The corridors were empty already, only a few last stragglers wandered slowly back to their common rooms to enjoy the evening with company. He bade everyone he met a good night and continued his walking. Feeling rather restless, he decided to go for a walk tomorrow and visit the Kneazles and Garden Gnomes. It had been quite a long time since he had last seen them and he knew that he needed to train his summoning skills some more before he really needed them.

Deeply in thought, he rounded corner after corner and slunk along darkened, empty hallways. Portraits silently watched him but none of them commented on his prowling after curfew. He passed the library but it lay dormant, dark and uninhabited even by the faithful Madam Pince. The next stop was the entrance to the dungeons but Harry didn't feel up to sneaking around the Slytherins. Besides, he wasn't out for trouble so he turned around and walked away.

His feet carried him to the main corridor that led to Hogwarts' main entrance portal. The portal where Lucius Malfoy had accosted him so shamelessly weeks ago.

Harry stopped at the doors, taking a deep breath. Standing here and remembering that scene sent inexplicable shivers through his body. Those dreams he had been having during the last weeks - he had an inkling about what, or rather _who_, had triggered them.

A new shudder ran through him, this time in a mix of arousal and disgust. Liking boys was one thing, he knew that and was fine with it, but getting turned on by _Draco Malfoy's father_, however subconsciously it might be, was just disturbing. The man was admittedly very good-looking, still Harry couldn't believe why he was fancying such a 'type' of man. Didn't he have enough evil to last him a lifetime already? Beauty was not everything, he knew that as well. And yet the older Malfoy obviously stirred something in him that made him nervous and, well, hot and bothered.

Sighing, he leaned against the door and closed his eyes for a moment. He couldn't believe that he even had this discussion with himself. Magic and a faint tingle stole over his neck, caressing him in a mockery of that touch that had him swooning so. Heat and memories shot up, streaming from his belly into his toes, fingers and head. Suddenly Harry didn't only feel lips on his neck but also the strong hands of his dream lover on his skin. He bit his lip and tried to fight the images back but they were overwhelming in their intensity.

_Just what_, he asked himself, _has that bastard _done_ to me_?

Breathing heavily, he gave in to his overactive imagination and let the lustful feelings take their curse through his body. He was only sixteen after all; he couldn't just ignore desire when it sprang up on him like this.

It was uncanny how those hands knew just where to touch him, squeeze demandingly into his flesh and grab him roughly. Harry's reality blurred for a second or two, leaving him helpless and vulnerable to the fantasy. He felt so hot inside but at least his fantasy was merciful and undid him quickly.

Shuddering, Harry tried to recollect his bearings afterwards. He felt angry and embarrassed and dissatisfied, although he was astounded at how much his own imagination was apparently able to come up with, even if it involved unknown men and Lucius Malfoy. He cleaned himself up with a whispered spell and adjusted his clothes as well as his glasses. Someday soon he was going to scream, he just knew it.

Gently tapping sounds of footsteps jolted Harry out of his angst. Whoever was coming, he was not interested to meet them, so he whisked away like a shadow and hid behind the nearest corner. It was all he could do not to be noticed and he hoped dearly that his own footsteps hadn't given him away. Besides, he was curious who was out and sneaking around at this time of the night.

"… and it's all her fault anyway," said a voice quietly that Harry recognised at once. It just wasn't his day. "Why must she always interfere? It's becoming annoying, Father."

Harry peered carefully around the corner. There they were, Draco Malfoy and his father. Both walked closely together and talked in rather hushed voices. Despite his current issues regarding the older Malfoy Harry couldn't tear his eyes from them. Draco looked so much like his father that it was spooky, and every time he saw them he could only marvel about this fact once again.

Draco's hair was loose and had the same colour as his father's, although It didn't match in length, of course. The eyes, the strong jaw and the elegantly curved eyebrows were very similar, though, almost as if Draco was a younger carbon copy of his sire. Around his neck he wore the green scarf Harry had given the elder Malfoy. They had obviously solved the issue, because Lucius Malfoy wore a white scarf, and Harry was sure it was the one Lucius had given him that night.

"She's dangerous, so keep watching her," said the elder Malfoy in a low, demanding voice. "She was there, and she wants to make truth of her words."

They reached the portal and stopped. Draco leaned in and embraced his father, a sight that shocked Harry in more ways than one. Maybe he shouldn't have witnessed this in the first place, he fretted; it made the Malfoys seem much more human. Not so evil even. Besides, he started feeling queasy for some inexplicable reason. It was the same feeling he had had the last time he met either of them, only that it was much weaker now.

"Shall I keep an eye on Potter, then?" Draco asked after a few moments. He seemed reluctant to let his father go.

"Yes, that would be wise," replied Lucius. "Stay clear of that woman and write me as soon as you know more."

Draco nodded and finally stepped back. "She's rather unpleasant and hard to bear. If only she was a bit more my type …" He leaned against the door and took a deep breath, sighing. "By the way, Father, doesn't it smell like …" He tapped against his scarf.

The older man inclined his head. "I noticed. He was right here." He inhaled deeply. "And not long ago."

Suddenly both were quite intent on sniffing the air and the portal with utmost care. Harry's heart pounded violently in his chest, and his hands were ice cold and clammy with fear. How was it even possible that they could smell him out in a school full of students at all? He was shaking with his suppressed desire to run like a hare, and yet he couldn't tear his eyes from that peculiar scene.

"Oh Merlin, it's _divine_," moaned Draco, leaning heavily against the door and stroking it slowly. He took deep breathes of air and looked quite flushed.

His father made a deep, purring sound which carried over to Harry's hiding place and made his hair stand on end. He was embarrassed beyond everything he had ever felt and thought was mortification. This was torture, especially because he had lost it at that portal. He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

"Well, I must, my dragon," said Lucius finally after long minutes. He adjusted his cloak and cleared his throat. Harry thought he sounded rather hoarse but maybe he was only starting to imagine things. The blood was still rushing madly in his ears, nearly drowning the voices out. "But I'll make sure to visit you soon."

"You just want to sniff on Potter again," replied Draco. He sounded petulant, almost like a pouting child.

"First of all I have to keep that impossible Parkinson girl off your back," said Malfoy senior in his velvety voice. "She was quite adamant on marrying you if she should manage to do the Dark Lord's bidding."

"_Ew_!" said Draco, and Harry had to agree. "This is all Mother's fault. She should never have betrothed me to her in the first place." He raked a hand through his longish hair. "I guess I should be thankful that she never wrote that down in blood."

"Even though, I wouldn't willingly give you up to a Parkinson of all people," said Lucius softly. "Bear it a bit longer, son. Everything will turn out fine."

Harry was too far away to really be able to decipher the look Draco was giving his father but it must have been full of feeling and hidden messages because Lucius was pulling his son into another embrace. They whispered to each other, and then Draco opened the portal and watched his father go.

* * *

How Harry had come back last night he didn't know. When he woke up the next morning, however, he felt drained, so drained that he ignored Ron's demands for him to wake up and have breakfast. When Ron had finally gone off in a huff, Harry got up, took a shower and tried his best not to think about that strange scene yesterday night.

Well, he mused, it _was_ strange to interact with the Malfoys at all, other than insulting and trying to make their lives difficult. And it was still beyond strange to be so irrationally close to them, be touched by them, even kissed.

Yes, in Harry's rather subjective point of view, fate had thrown him in for a loop and sent him on a ride that left him spinning and without any sense of orientation, and that didn't even include Voldemort and his perfidious plans.

He dressed and went outside. His mind was set on summoning the Kneazles and playing with them for a bit before it was time for lunch and his homework. March was only a few days away and he couldn't wait to see the snow melt away. Apparating lessons were progressing nicely for him and the others and it would be nice to get out of the castle for those lessons too.

On his way he wondered if the Sandwolves were still there, in the Forbidden Forest, or if they had wandered off to another territory. He remembered their sleek bodies and curious shading and the way the intelligence shone out of their eyes. Hopefully Buckbeak would be okay in the forest with them, them and those _other_ beasts Hagrid had spoken about months ago. Beasts that were so terrible and mysterious that no one even knew their names.

Sighing, Harry admitted that all of this was not really important right now. The only thing that he really needed was the almost-warm sunshine on his chilled face, the spell to call the Kneazles and, hopefully, some nice company for some time.

He muttered the spell and waited patiently. He knew that he had neglected the Kneazles quite a bit but hoped that they were like all cats and had enjoyed their independence rather than waiting for him to visit. Harry was surprised to see that Crookshanks actually led the small troupe of Kneazles on as if he was their leader. One of his followers was the fat, fluffy Kneazle lady he had been wooing before the holidays. She seemed to have gotten even bigger and Harry could imagine why. All in all it was very funny to see her waddle through the nose-high snow, shaking her paws after every other step in disgust.

Harry laughed and scratched Crookshanks behind his ears. The other Kneazles soon crowded around him, cuddling close and waiting for their turn to be petted. Harry saw to them all, gave them a bit cream and left with a feeling of regret when time for lunch rolled around.

Ron and Hermione greeted him warmly when he showed up and they easily fell into a conversation about everything and nothing. Today's meeting was scheduled for three o'clock in the afternoon. Hermione had decided to teach the illusion charms, deepening their knowledge from Professor Flitwick's classes. Her reasoning was that it might be easier to mislead enemies than actually fight them, especially when they didn't know as many curses as they did.

The meeting seemed to Harry as if all of his friends had caught on his strange, serene mood. They were determined yet relaxed – strange when they were facing a threat more dangerous than anything they had ever faced before. Still, it was a good atmosphere for training, and they got a lot done. Hermione was smug when she scribbled their doings into the logbook. Its pages filled more and more, and with the random revising they did at the beginning of each meeting Harry was confident that a lot of it stuck with his friends now.

Later, just before curfew, Harry was lying sprawled on a sofa in the common room and thinking of his recent, crazed life. It was all such a mess, really, and somehow, inexplicably, funny.

Hermione and Ron eyed him carefully, but since he had done all of his homework under Hermione's strict supervision they obviously saw no reason to disturb him. Ron was playing chess with Dean, with Ginny watching interestedly. Seamus was off with Blaise and Hermione was writing in a small, black book. Harry watched her scribbling tirelessly into the book, wondering what was so important. Perhaps it was just a diary, but even if it was, she obviously had a lot to write down.

He looked at her a bit longer, the affection for her warming him up from inside. Gods but he loved his friends. Without them and their help he would be nothing, and he knew it. In moments like these he knew exactly why love was such a strong force, and maybe he could even fathom why Voldemort feared it so much.

Sighing, he finally took his notes for DADA and started reading. He had another hour to kill before he went to bed. He'd rather study than ponder over the strange things that were happening lately_;_ and so he did just that.

* * *

The next week started out peacefully enough. The weather got better still and Madam Hooch allowed each Quidditch team time on the pitch for some warming up. Harry and Ron were all for it and practically ran out into the sun as soon as Transfiguration on Tuesday was over. Even Hermione came out of the castle and spent some time reading on the stands, every now and then looking up at her whooping friends.

In the Great Hall dinner progressed into a feast. Each house was unnaturally loud, voices and laughter sounded through the ancient hall. Even though the sun had set early it had been a great day with bright sunshine and the first, warming breezes.

Harry found that his appetite had returned full-force. He shovelled food into his mouth, easily rivalling Ron. Hermione watched them amusedly, not even pretending to read her book that was standing propped up against a large goblet.

"You two are such hyenas," she said after a while. She pushed a large bowl of chocolate pudding in Ron's direction and another to Harry. "Spring must've started already, the way you're behaving."

Ron grinned with his mouth full, and Hermione snorted with laughter. Harry watched Blaise at the Slytherin table. They had told him what Harry had seen Friday night and the boy had promised to watch Pansy very closely. Malfoy next to him stared back at Harry, curling his lip slightly. Whether it was a sneer or just an expression of disgust Harry didn't know, but he didn't let it perturb him either way.

A bit later Dumbledore rose from his seat at the teachers' table and tapped his wand against his goblet for attention.

"Dear students," he said into the reluctant silence that was occasionally broken by a whisper or a giggle. "As you might have noticed, the weather has turned out better than anticipated after the snow storm, and the weather forecast promises stable weather until April. On that account it was decided to start the Quidditch season early to make use of this rare occurrence."

He had barely ended when the whole school erupted into loud cheering. Players on all teams jumped up and hugged each other, shouting obscene threats at the other teams.

"The first match will take place on the first Saturday of April, so prepare well. Ravenclaw will play against Hufflepuff, and I expect each team to try their best," said Dumbledore. His amplified voice easily drowned out the cheers of the students. "Well, and now I wish all of you a good night." He hastily left the table, with McGonagall not far behind him.

"Somehow old Snape is missing" said Seamus when almost all of the teachers had gone. "It's not the same when he's not glaring at us as usual."

"Well," replied Hermione, "then you'll be happy to hear that he'll be back tomorrow. I went to Madam Pomfrey and asked her. We have our exams coming up, we can't afford to miss more lessons."

"Oh, come off it," said Ron. He sounded put out. "I liked our free classes."

"Of course you did." Hermione's voice was curt and her face prim. "I'm just glad he's better." She took her bag and stood up from the table.

"Hermione-," Ron tried, but she left in a huff without turning around again.

"Wonderful, Ron," said Harry quietly. "You know how worried she's been. Sometimes you're really behaving like an insensitive ogre."

He stood up and went after her. Truth to be told, he worried about her and her attachment to Snape. It was true that the man was under a lot of stress, not only because of Voldemort but because of the students as well. And it was seemingly also true that he did a lot of work for, well, both sides. Fact was, she respected him, and that alone was enough for Harry.

He found Hermione in the Room of Requirement, furiously pacing back and forth, all the while muttering angrily under her breath and ignoring the rows and rows of books that were stacked along the walls of the room. Deciding to leave her alone for a bit so she could let off some steam, Harry chose a book from one shelf that looked interesting and settled in a chair to read.

It didn't take very long until Hermione joined him on the arm of the plush chair. "I don't care what Ron and the others think," she said in a determined voice. Harry noted how pale and bitter she seemed. "I won't give him up."

Harry stroked her back and hair and only looked at her. He was beyond judging now, he just wanted Hermione to feel better about it all.

"I know he's not bad," Hermione continued, sounding defiant, as if she thought she had to defend her decisions in front of Harry. "There must be something to keep him here, with us. Something to make him want it …" She fell silent, and all of her anger and furious determination dissolved into helpless anguish. "Why can't it ever be _easy_?"

Hushing her gently, Harry wrapped her in his arms and hugged her tightly to his chest. "You'll find a way, I'm sure," he muttered. And he meant it. If there was someone who could make Snape see reason it was Hermione, because Dumbledore obviously had failed if that what Harry had seen in Snape's mind was any indication.

"Stop flattering me," sniffled Hermione, but she was smiling again.

After Hermione had wiped her wet eyes they got up and decided to go back to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione, being who she was, took several books for later, and Harry let himself be talked into taking one as well.

"Don't you think that it feels … _strange_ somehow?" Hermione suddenly asked on their way back. It was dark in the corridors, with only torches illuminating the path.

"Strange how?" Harry replied. But he admitted that Hermione was right; now that she mentioned it he realised that it _did_ feel strange. It was nothing he could pinpoint or describe, it was just _there_, and everywhere around them. At least it didn't seem threatening, for which he was thankful. The last week had been mostly pleasant, and he could do without a bad surprise right now.

She shrugged. "I don't know. I guess it's in the air, like a thunderstorm is coming up."

They continued to walk towards their common room, consciously looking for signs to prove that feeling. Harry thought he could feel the castle itself vibrate under the soles of his feet, and Hermione touched the old, cool walls more than once.

Passing the Charms corridor, Harry spotted Malfoy standing with Blaise near a window and bathed in moonlight, quietly talking to each other. Blaise, who stood with his back turned to the hallway, didn't notice a thing, but Malfoy's eyes shot up and looked directly at Harry with a silvery, penetrating stare.

Harry swallowed. Malfoy looked so otherworldly just now.

_Beautiful_.

He winced. As much as it entertained him perversely to have such thoughts about Draco Malfoy of all people, it would be better to keep his mouth shut around his friends. He didn't want to provoke trouble, and most certainly not about _this_.

Still, he felt that Malfoy's action deserved a response, so he nodded shortly at him before he followed Hermione's resolute strides. The Fat Lady let them in without much protest, although she frowned slightly at their tardiness. He and Hermione had only a few minutes to get ready for the Prefect meeting, and they hurried to find the others. It was easy to forget those when you were occupied with much more important things.

An hour later, when he was lying in bed and waiting for sleep to come, Harry wondered how it was possible that Hogwarts felt so different. In the corridors it had been only a whisp, but now the air itself seemed thick with _something_. He sighed and closed his eyes. Whatever it was, it didn't hinder him to fall asleep quickly …

* * *

Humid air danced around Harry in a hot breeze, teasing his bare calves and arms and upper body. His hair was wet and he raked his hand through it, wiping it out of his face. He was overlooking a large lake, but Hogwarts was nowhere in sight. Only exotic, colourful plants were there, transpiring in the sweltering heat.

Soft footsteps sounded from behind Harry, and he knew who it was. But he was too lazy to run now, too content to give the feeling up for the thrill of excitement. The steps were slow, almost as if they were stalking.

"You're not up for play tonight," a deep voice whispered from behind in Harry's oversensitive ear. The soft, controlled breath tickled Harry's hair and neck.

Arms wrapped around Harry's torso from behind, and hot hands stroked his belly gently.

"No," Harry agreed. His eyes looked over the lake, admiring the pink sky and the first stars that were starting to show. "I'd rather just enjoy your company."

"Is that so?" the voice purred, and the hands glided deeper, stopping just above Harry's hipbones.

"Oh, yes." Harry closed his eyes and moaned softly. Those hands were starting to stroke him, and this time they didn't stop. A hot tongue traced the skin of his neck and played with his ear, and when another pair of lips was demandingly covering his mouth, Harry sighed happily. He had missed the other one - one alone was somehow _wrong_.

Two half-naked bodies against his aroused Harry like nothing ever had, and he tried to give his two pursuers back what they offered him. The one in front of him growled in Harry's embrace, insistently pushing against him, letting him feel everything of him, while the other from behind was pressing against him and touching him so shamelessly, so greedily.

It was so hot, really sweltering, and the two gods of nature, as Harry had termed them, made short work of Harry's composure, sending him reeling. Harry clawed at the broad back of his second capturer, digging his fingers into feather-soft skin. A gasp escaped him when he came, and for the first time since these strange encounters had started, Harry felt this explosion with the awareness of someone who had discovered that sex could be, and, in his case, _was_ something wonderful.

Before he came down from his high he kissed them both on the mouth, staring into their light eyes as he did so. "Thank you," he said huskily, licking his wet lips.

Just then he started to wake up like he always did, and he felt cold, seeing the masked faces of those two gods slowly vanish in the darkness of wakefulness.

It was pure torture to see Ron's face instead, looming over him and shaking him awake uncaringly. Harry swatted his hands away and turned around, trying to burrow himself deeper into his comforter and pillow, but Ron wouldn't let him.

"Get up, Harry! It's a wonderful day outside!" he chirped in an obnoxiously happy voice.

"Get lost," grumbled Harry, but Ron only laughed and manhandled him out of bed and pushed him into the shower.

A little bit later he was ready to face the day, and he even forgave Ron his wake-up call when he saw the sunrise outside. The sky was clear and baby-blue with pink clouds and golden sunlight. Humming happily, he skipped down to the Great Hall. Other students seemed to be equally chipper, and seeing Hermione without books at the table made him smile.

Harry and Ron shovelled food onto their plates and then into themselves, all the while chatting with their friends and basking in the shy sunlight that was pouring through the owl windows of the Great Hall and from the enchanted ceiling. After looking at the other houses' tables Harry was sure that the other students were having an equally enjoyable morning, even the Slytherins.

When breakfast was almost over, a sudden thrum went through the tables and benches, shaking everybody and everything up. Goblets tipped over, cutlery clattered on plates, children squeaked in surprise. Dumbledore stood up at once, with the other teachers by his side. As soon as the strange surge had come up it died away, leaving a flabbergasted silence in its wake. Dumbledore raised his hand and the main portal that led directly outside, flew open.

Still stunned, the whole student body watched as a flock of maybe twenty witches of all ages and looks swarmed into the Great Hall. Magic was swirling around them, vibrating in the sunny morning air. The whole group marched through the corridor between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw table until they stood in front of the High Table.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, Diane Lovegood and her Coven humbly ask for asylum in the sacred halls of Hogwarts!" an old witch called loudly into the silence. She seemed to be the leader of the group.

"Who is threatening you that you have need of asylum here?" Dumbledore asked in an authoritarian voice.

The witch looked him square in the eyes, and a grim smile crooked her lips. "Why, Lord Voldemort of course."

After that admission, all hell broke loose. Students started to talk heatedly with each other, and the noise was getting out of hand. Luna ran to greet her grandmother. Both witches hugged tightly and spoke to each other in hushed voices while Dumbledore left his place at the teachers' table to join the newcomers.

"_Silence_!" shouted McGonagall finally. She held the tip of her wand to her throat, having cast _Sonorus_ to be heard over the commotion. "Students, as interesting as it must seem, I insist that you go to classes. _Now_. Tardiness will be punished as usual. You will hear about this later. And now off with you."

Nobody dared to contradict her, so the students hastened to get their things and go to classes. Harry was excited to finally meet Luna's grandmother but on the other hand it had a stinging feel to it. The Wiccans' arrival here meant that Voldemort was getting restless. It meant that time was running too quickly.

Potions was strained but not unbearable. Harry and Blaise worked together silently, sharing meaningful looks and a few reassuring touches that comforted them more than they wanted to admit. Malfoy looked at Harry strangely but his glare was not up to its usual force. Harry could see that he was just as nervous as the rest, so he smiled reassuringly at him, consequences be damned.

Snape was menacing as always but his comments lacked their usual barb. He still looked tired and worn out and not up to his usual mean behaviour. Every now and then Harry snuck a look at Hermione who did her best to keep Terry from messing their potion up.

He bristled silently. How Terry had managed to get into the class was a mystery to Harry. At least Harry was learning, which didn't seem to be true for Terry. He kept making the same mistakes again and again. And Snape obviously knew that too. Most of his insults were directed at the Ravenclaw, and for once Harry had a wicked feeling of satisfaction.

After their double period Hermione stayed back. "Professor, may I have a word with you?" she asked in a tight voice.

"If you must," replied Snape caustically.

Hermione's eyes flashed and she looked ready for battle. Harry hurried to get out, alongside the others. Nobody wanted to be in a room with Hermione when she was about to argue with Snape. Blaise shut the door after him and grinned at Harry.

"We should leave the lovebirds to themselves," he said with a wink.

Malfoy grabbed Blaise's arm. "Don't be obnoxious, Zabini," he said dryly. "You spend way too much time with Gryffindors." He dragged Blaise off to their next class, bristling with embarrassment when Harry blew him a mocking kiss.

Blaise pouted. "Awww, come on, Draco. They are good company. Really."

Chuckling, Harry made his way to greenhouse three. Herbology would be fun, now that the sun was shining again and without having to worry about their hands freezing on the gardening tools.

Class started and Hermione hadn't come. Madam Sprout seemed unconcerned, however, knowing that Hermione was usually on time. When Hermione finally joined them she had a pass to excuse her tardiness, and her face was glowing.

"How the hell did you get Snape to give you a pass?" Harry hissed at her when they were busy trimming Biting Bushes.

"He didn't," replied Hermione. A smug smile graced her face. "I met Professor Dumbledore on my way, and when I told him why I was late he gave me a pass. That was really nice of him."

"Why did you stay behind anyway?" asked Ron from the other side of the bush. "Did Snape do something again?"

"Oh, don't worry," said Hermione dismissively and cut off a rather large branch of the bush. It shivered and tried to shy away from her scissors. "It was kind of personal."

"_Personal_?" Ron asked with a slightly panicked edge to his voice. "'Mione, what in the seven hells could you discuss with him that is _personal_?"

Hermione only smiled. "Don't bother, Ron. It wasn't important, anyway."

Harry glanced at her. Of course he didn't believe her, and Ron didn't, either. Both were clever enough to let it rest, though. For the remainder of their double period they entertained themselves with talking about the Wiccans. Madam Sprout kindly pretended not to hear the gossip and didn't take points for talking during class and the students pretended not to notice how she tried to listen in.

During lunch the group of Wiccans and Dumbledore were still absent and the students were getting restless. Harry pushed his food around, staring at the empty seat at the teachers' table. He couldn't wait to hear what Dumbledore had to say about the whole situation. The bickering of his friends wasn't satisfying in the least, although Hermione's arguments seemed logical.

"Ron, didn't you listen to Snuffles the other night? There has never been a case where wizards and witches who asked for asylum were turned away," Hermione explained impatiently. "Especially not when a Dark Lord was out there."

"Yeah, but where will Dumbledore let them live? And how does he know that they aren't infiltrating us?" Dean asked. Other boys nodded in agreement.

Hermione snorted. "Why do I even have to tell you? You of all people should know that Hogwarts certainly is big enough to house at least three hundred more people." Ron, Dean and Colin had the grace to look properly chastised. "And as for how he'll know … use your head! He's not the most powerful wizard of our time for nothing. I'm sure he has his ways to determine if they're on our side or Voldemort's."

"But he still manages to employ a fraud as DADA professor every single year," challenged Ron.

Hermione flushed. Harry grinned and patted her hand. "Don't worry about our DADA teachers. With them we've had our fun so far, and Blackadder won't be an exception." He smirked. "And I doubt that there'll be one that is worse than Umbridge, anyway."

"Speaking of her, did you read the Prophet this morning?" Hermione asked.

Parvati nodded. "Yeah, they wrote that Fudge is trying to convince the Wizengamot to let her have her post as school governor back." She frowned. "If they allow that I'll officially declare them incompetent."

Hermione smirked. "Incompetent and idiots, really. But you just said that you'd have fun with her. I know I will."

"Hermione!" said Lavender in a mock-scandalized voice.

"Oh please, we all know that Fudge will get this through, it's only a matter of time. Voldemort unfortunately _does_ have his people everywhere."

On that note lunch was finished, and Harry, Ron, Dean and the other Gryffindors went to get up to the north tower in time for their Divination double period. Firenze had caught a cold which Hagrid treated and so they had Professor Trelawney again. Hermione told them sweetly to have fun before she left the Great Hall for Arithmancy.

"Sometimes I hate her," muttered Ron, gasping for air on the impossibly steep stairs. "And then I wonder why I haven't dropped this subject ages ago. With Firenze it's almost okay, but with _her_? Yuck!"

Harry laughed breathlessly. Together with Blaise, Hannah and all the other unhappy students they stumbled into the tower room at last, holding their aching sides and cursing Trelawney profusely. The silver ladder was already there, awaiting their entrance into the classroom.

When nobody moved to be the first to go up, Crabbe pushed Harry hard, almost causing him to stumble into Ron. "After you, Potter," he said meanly.

Harry unhurriedly pulled out his wand and shoved it right into Crabbe's face. "No, after _you_," he replied in kind. "Don't try this shit on me, you'll most certainly regret it." His wand shot off green sparks, causing the others to take a step back.

Crabbe seemed to be taken aback by this rather violent reaction and didn't argue. Grunting, he climbed up into the classroom, followed by Goyle who was glaring menacingly at Harry. Silently, Malfoy went next, with Pansy hot on his heels.

Harry and Ron exchanged a dark look before they went up as well. At least Professor Trelawney was her usual empty-headed self, proclaiming dark times and a violent death for Harry. Later, when they were trying to read from soggy coffee remains, Harry watched Crabbe and Goyle talking quietly with each other, every now and then breaking out into hissing laughter. Malfoy, who had been so unfortunate to end up with Pansy, was sitting next to them, his face empty and his saucer untouched.

"Well, this says that Amor will come to you soon," said Ron, turning the saucer this way and that. He grimaced. "How is this any different from reading tea leaves?" he asked mutinously. "Anyway, the ruddy stuff says that there'll be romance and even passion during the next few months." Ron waggled his eyebrows. "Is it someone I know, Harry?"

"Very funny," retorted Harry, flushing brightly. The coffee wasn't _that_ far off if he counted his dreams. He flushed even brighter; he liked those dreams, a lot. To shut Ron up he took his saucer and started reading from the coffee as well. From the corner of his eyes he watched how Pansy made eyes at Malfoy, simpering and cooing at him. He shuddered.

Thankfully classes were over soon, and Trelawney even let them off without homework. Harry and Ron hurried to get away from the thick, sweet smoke in the classroom. Neville, Seamus and Dean were following them to the common room and it was decided to make use of the fine weather. Hermione huffed but came along anyway when the boys shouldered their things for a Quidditch game.

When time for dinner came, everybody was eager to go to the Great Hall early. Harry was ascurious as a bunch of cats about what Dumbledore would say about the Wiccans and their request for asylum. Hermione and Ron walked next to them, their faces eager and no less curious than Harry's. Dinner was served first, though. Aggravated, the students ate as quickly as they could to move Dumbledore to tell them sooner. At last the plates vanished and the table was cleared.

"Dear students!" called Dumbledore over the noise in the Great Hall. His eyes were twinkling and he smiled broadly. "Please listen, and then your pudding will be served."

Ron twitched. "Is this a new form of torture, making us wait for dessert?" he complained. He glowered when Dean and Seamus guffawed at that.

"As you all know," said Dumbledore now into the pin-drop-silence, "there was a request for asylum this morning. I decided to grant it after much consideration. However, I must ask all of you to mind a few new rules. First of all, please don't disturb the members of the Coven when they do magic. It's very disrespectful and will bite you … so to speak." His eyes twinkled even more. "Also I must ask you to leave any paintings, signs or runes alone that appear on Hogwarts' walls. They are part of Wicca magic, thus you'd be disturbing the magic if you disturb the paintings. And at last I ask you to give the witches of the Sunrider Coven a warm welcome. Answer questions when they're asked and show our guests the way, should they get lost in the castle. Thank you."

Dumbledore sat down and McGonagall rose from her seat. "The Coven has decided to dine here in the Great Hall with the students, so you should show some table manners and respect when they join you." Her strict face twitched a bit. "If you feel some slight disturbances in your surroundings or your magic it is most likely the answer to their Wicca magic and shouldn't frighten you." With that said she nodded curtly and swept from the room.

On the tables appeared puddings, tarts and creampuffs, just as Dumbledore had promised. Ron started to stuff himself at once, but Harry and Hermione looked at each other in silent understanding. Their appetite was gone, instead Harry felt anxious and worried, and he could see his sentiments mirrored in Hermione's pale face.

After dinner Ron and the others wanted to go to the Quidditch pitch again to train for a bit. Harry declined the invitation to come along. He had some Potions homework he needed to do, and besides, he wanted to talk to Blaise.

For once, the dark haired boy was alone. Since Seamus had gone with Ron, Harry had been right in looking for him in the library.

"Hi," said Blaise quietly. He sat alone at a table, lots of books stacked around his parchment.

"Hi. Do you have a minute?" asked Harry. He looked around, and then pulled out his wand. After casting a silencing and an obscuring charm, he looked firmly at his friend. "I wanted to ask you a favour."

"A favour?" replied Blaise, puzzled. "If it's something for the DA you just have to ask, you know that."

"It is for the DA, but it's still a favour," said Harry. He raked a nervous hand through his hair. "I need to know how Parkinson is getting information out of Hogwarts. I don't think she's doing it by owl, that's why I need your help. You don't have to do it, of course, it's dangerous after all."

Blaise's eyes shimmered softly. "I'll see what I can do." He smirked. "Really Potter, I'm flattered that you care so much for my well-being."

Harry first hit him over the head and then ruffled the long hair affectionately. "Don't get caught, it's not worth it."

Blaise smiled. "Of course it is. Now get lost, I have things to do."

Being shooed off, Harry took down the wards and sauntered out of the library. It was time to face his dreaded homework.

* * *

A few days later the students had mostly adjusted to the presence of the new inhabitants. The Wiccans sat at all tables during mealtimes, often changing houses to get to know all the students. Even the Slytherins showed hospitality, if only to satisfy their curiosity. On the walls of Hogwarts there had indeed appeared a few drawings, mostly runes and symbol, which, as Luna explained, portrayed several pagan deities. Her grandmother had talked a lot with Harry, Hermione and Ron; the instant sympathy had gotten her an invitation to the next DA meeting. She had promised to come, and to bring any members of her Coven who were also interested.

Of course, some students wouldn't let the Wiccans be in peace. Pansy Parkinson had removed some of the paintings already, and her sneering face promised more trouble.

"She just can't keep it to herself, can she?" hissed Hermione when she and Harry came from Advanced Potions the next Wednesday, exactly one week later.

And indeed, having had just two free periods, Pansy busied herself gleefully with scrubbing away a drawing at a prominent crossing.

"Stop that, Parkinson," demanded Harry. Since she was a prefect he couldn't take points from her, but he had his ways to make her regret her doing. "I'll inform Dumbledore about your behaviour. Perhaps he'll finally see fit to take your status as prefect and give it to someone who actually deserves it."

"Ha, you wish," retorted Pansy smugly. "Last year Dumbledork couldn't do anything either, and why should that change with how things are now?" She stepped away from the wall and pushed Hermione, hard. "As if some little Mudblood and her dorky, Muggle loving boyfriend could stop me, or our Lord."

"Take that back," hissed Hermione dangerously. She dropped her bag and pushed Pansy back. "That slimy bastard may be _your_ lord, but don't associate him with us!"

"He _will_ be your lord, whether you want it or not." Pansy glared maliciously at Hermione, seizing her up condescendingly. "Of course, a dirty Mudblood like you won't be living long after he's taken his rightful place."

"Oh, you-" Mad with rage, Hermione tackled Pansy, threw her to the ground and started bitch-slapping her. It looked like a dream come true for her.

Harry wisely kept out of it, but he did worry about Hermione. Pansy, of course, was retaliating, and not just with fists. After only two minutes of fighting, both girls sported scratches on arms, necks and faces. Pansy in addition had a swelling eye, whereas Hermione's hair was wilder than ever because Pansy had pulled on it viciously.

After a last, successful (and rather satisfying, Harry thought) punch to Pansy's face, Hermione got up and smoothed her hair down. From the dirty floor, Pansy glared at her from her good eye, pulled her wand and muttered a curse.

Harry jumped and knocked Hermione out of the way, but it was too late for her bookbag. Flames quickly consumed her Potions book, her notes, the quill her parents had given her for her birthday, and, at last, the bag itself.

"That's it," said Harry sternly. "You two are coming with me, right now. Parkinson, if I hear one word from you, I'll gag you and tie you up until we've reached Dumbledore's office, is that understood? _Expelliarmus_!" He snatched Pansy's wand and put it away.

"Why are you only taking my wand?" Pansy shrieked. "She started it!"

"You were the one who burned her bag, so shut the hell up," growled Harry. "Up, and go quickly."

Furious, he marched the two girls to Dumbledore's office. The headmaster was suitably surprised to see Harry bring his best friend. After a short description of what had transpired, Dumbledore took twenty points from each house first, then another twenty from Pansy for trying to hex an unarmed fellow student, and then he told Pansy to pay for everything Hermione had lost.

"But that book costs a fortune!" Pansy complained heatedly.

"It's not just a book you'll have to replace," Dumbledore reminded her mildly. "Perhaps you'll think more about your actions before you carry them out. If Miss Granger doesn't have her things one week from now I'll have to notify your parents, Miss Parkinson. And now off you go. Mr Potter, Miss Granger, please stay behind for a moment."

Fuming, Pansy stormed from the office. When the door clicked shut, Dumbledore sighed tiredly. "What had you really going, Hermione? Usually such barbs don't quite test your temper, do they?"

"Yes, they do," said Hermione quietly. "But until now I could keep from hitting someone." She looked Dumbledore square in the eyes; Harry wondered if she knew that Dumbledore was a Legilimens and would probably make use of that opportunity. "We are all on edge, and I admit that I'm afraid. She could be working for Voldemort right under our noses and we could never prove it."

"I admit that it is conspicuous how she disrupts the Wiccans' work," said Dumbledore, steepling his fingers together in thought. Fawkes trilled his agreement from his perch. "And there has been leakage of certain information that can't be explained. Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle are closely watched, so they're not the ones who did it." He sighed again, showing his true age and then some in that second. "I'll keep an eye on Miss Parkinson, that much I can promise. Don't worry too much, you two. Enjoy the last weeks of school. Sooner than you think it's time for the exams and you will want to be fit, don't you?"

Harry and Hermione recognised it as the dismissal it was and went back to class. Madam Sprout wasn't impressed but since they had a pass let it slide without much complaint. Ron was ranting the whole time once he had heard what had happened.

"It can't be helped," sighed Hermione. Class was over and students started to put their scissors and gloves back on the rack before leaving happily for their next class. "I have to go to Madam Pince and ask if she can lend me a replacement until Parkinson has bought a new Potions book for me."

"Do you think she'll do it?" Ron asked doubtfully. "I mean, wouldn't it kind of make her parents proud if she managed to get one over you?"

Hermione shrugged half-heartedly. "Probably. Anyway, I can't work without book. Do your homework without me for once, all right?"

Harry ruffled her hair affectionately. "Don't worry so much, 'Mione. And don't think so much, either." He didn't like the signs of weariness around her eyes. It made her look so sad, somehow. "We will survive one evening without you."

The way up to the castle was strenuous since the ground was still partially covered in snow and ice whereas other parts were already muddy and slippery. Thankfully the green houses were just around the corner. A trip up from Hagrid's hut would have been another thing altogether.

During lunch all the Gryffindors congratulated Hermione on slapping Pansy. The twenty points she had lost didn't count in anyone's eyes and were well worth it. Still, Harry was worried that Pansy would try to retaliate. It was unacceptable, of course. It seemed like he had to ask Blaise for another favour.

After lunch they had two boring hours of divination, again with Professor Trelawney. Harry sincerely hoped that Firenze would get better soon. He missed the gentle centaur and his calm way of teaching.

"Good afternoon, dears," said Professor Trelawney in her whispery voice. "Today we will return to crystal balls." The majority of the class groaned audibly. "I know that many of you still haven't grasped the delicate but effective art of scrying, so please pair up and get a crystal ball."

The students scurried to team up with their friends. Once again Harry watched Malfoy as he tried to evade Pansy, and within a second he had made up his mind.

"Ron, I'm going to partner with Malfoy today," he whispered. "Get Blaise."

Confused, Ron just nodded and snagged Blaise right out from Millicent's grasp. Satisfied, Harry went up to Malfoy. Pansy sneered when she noticed him.

"Sod off, Potter, Draco is going to partner with me." She arrogantly flipped a strand of her long, blond hair back.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe you should let him decide for himself?" Harry turned his gaze to Malfoy, who looked at him disbelievingly. "How about us today, Malfoy? I promise that I'll behave."

Smirking, he noticed the faint flush on Malfoy's cheeks. Although the blond boy was more than two inches bigger than him it was remarkably easy to get him flustered.

"I think not!" cried Pansy angrily. She tried to grab Malfoy's arm, but he was quickly side-stepping her.

"You get the crystal ball, Potter," he drawled.

"Okay. Go find a seat for us." Harry turned and only then allowed himself a smirk. So it was like that, wasn't it? Malfoy was choosing _him_ over Pansy.

It was odd how satisfying this was.

When he returned, Malfoy had occupied a seat close to Trelawney's desk. Pansy sat a few seats down, fuming and glaring daggers at Harry. She had partnered up with Millicent Bulstrode, seeing that Blaise had teamed up with Ron.

"What are you up to, Potter?" said Malfoy, as soon as Professor Trelawney had told them to start.

"Such a harsh tone, and that after I've rescued you from your evil fiancée. I'm hurt." Harry sighed dramatically.

Malfoy gritted his teeth. "Look, Potter, I may like you better than her, but that doesn't mean we're friends. What do you want?"

Smiling, Harry pushed the crystal ball from Draco's place to his own, making sure to touch his fingers lightly. "Nothing really. Just seeing how our truce is faring."

Malfoy snatched his hand back as if Harry's touch had burned him. "I'm keeping quiet, am I not?"

Harry chuckled at the insulted tone. "Yes, you are. Thanks, by the way." He slanted a sly, inviting look at the blond boy. Where he got the courage or the playfulness he didn't know. Right now he didn't much care, either. It just felt good. "But I miss talking to you."

How Malfoy did it, looking blank and flushed at the same time, Harry would never know, but he did. His face was twisted in an entertaining mix of incredulity and embarrassment, and also a slight twinge of hurt.

"We've never _talked_," hissed Malfoy quietly. "And I'm sure we never will."

"Hmmmm," said Harry uncommunicatively. "But we're talking now."

Malfoy pursed his lips. "Yes, admittedly. Because you cornered me. What a Slytherin thing to do." He sighed. "Look, let's just get this lesson over with. I'm not keen on talking to you."

Shrugging, Harry pushed the small pang of disappointment back. Since Malfoy was so keen on doing something in this class, Harry might as well look into the crystal ball.

As usual it took a while but by now Harry was used to seeing things, even though he never had during the last years. He had accepted it; it wasn't as if he ever saw something important.

Right now he saw his meadow again, from his perspective it looked as if he were flying over the green, lush grass, towards the fringe of the woods. On and on it went, into the forest, deeper and deeper until he dove into shadows and then he was following a lone corridor, dark and musty and dank. A door loomed at the end. He knew that door, he had dreamed about that door. A hand stretched out to touch the door knob, but it wasn't his hand. It was a large, pale hand with long fingers and carefully filed nails.

With a gasp Harry shot out of his vision. With wide eyes he was looking at Malfoy who was staring back. Without thinking Harry grabbed the other boy's right hand, examining it for a second.

"_Shit_," he cursed.

"What?" Malfoy asked, looking shaken and uncertain. "What did you see?"

Harry groaned. "Later," he sighed. "I didn't need that!"

Anxiously, Malfoy dropped his haughty act and searched Harry's face with a penetrating stare. "I'll hold you to that," he murmured, so Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle wouldn't hear.

Sighing again, Harry pushed the crystal ball over to the blonde. "Here, have a look. The lesson is long."

Giving Harry a look that was almost as withering as when Hermione wanted to know something, Malfoy accepted the crystal ball and positioned it right in front of himself.

Soon he was lost into the scrying, his silvery grey eyes fixed onto the crystal and not wavering. Despite himself Harry watched him, noting how handsome his old school nemesis had become. And he was getting more handsome each day, as far as Harry was concerned.

Fate truly was mean if it kept throwing him and Malfoy into impossible situations. They had kissed so often during the last months, it already weighed all of Harry's dates up.

Nothing could come of this, Harry was sure, but it was even harder when you somehow had the feeling that the object of your fascination wasn't so bad anymore. That he was human and had qualities you might come to like, not only a handsome face.

Not that Harry had any intention of ever approaching Malfoy. Their dislike of each other was too deeply rooted, and even though he regretted this, he felt that it was Malfoy's decision to either take Harry up on his teasing or reject him completely.

Although Malfoy was scrying for almost fifteen minutes it was too soon for Harry to have the blonde back with him.

Feeling sorry for himself (and boy, these conflicting feelings were distracting at best), Harry looked expectantly at Malfoy.

"And? How did it go?" he asked curiously. He bit his lip to hide his smirk when Malfoy blushed a rosy red. "That bad?"

"Shut up, Potter," mumbled Malfoy, mortified.

"Look, I'll tell you my vision and you'll tell me yours. Deal?"

Malfoy sighed and refused to look at Harry. "Do I have to?"

"If you want to know mine, then yes."

Face heating up again, Malfoy stared at the table cloth. "Then forget it."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, dears, what have you seen?" asked Trelawney, startling them both as she glided up to them. She leaned forward and looked into their crystal ball with huge, rapidly blinking eyes.

"Nothing, Professor," Harry lied easily. "Perhaps I'm not up to it today."

"Pity," she sighed. "And you, Mr Malfoy? What have you seen?"

"I think Potter is contagious. I haven't seen anything either."

"Oh!" Professor Trelawney pushed her bangles up her bony forearms and sat on a free, overstuffed chair. "This gift, or the lack of it, is not contagious, Mr Malfoy. Now let's see if your crystal ball is working properly."

With much humming and murmuring she positioned the crystal ball in front of herself, lowered her face until her nose was almost touching the glass and looked into it. Her huge eyes never blinked and her mouth dropped open. Through the ball Harry had trouble keeping the hysterical laughter in that desperately wanted to come out. Professor Trelawney's distorted face simply looked hilarious! And not even Malfoy could keep his smirk back completely.

She scryed for a few minutes, murmuring under her breath. Then, as if bitten by a Garden Gnome, she jerked back, colouring lightly.

"Oh dears, I'm so sorry! I didn't know that you were ... never mind." Professor Trelawney got up abruptly, brushed off her dress and hastily went away.

"What. Was. _That_?" asked Malfoy, gaping after her.

Harry knew that he probably looked just as stupid, so he quickly shook himself out of his stupor. "I would like to know, too," he said. "I think I'll go ask her after class."

"Do you think she'll tell you?"

Harry smirked. "Where's your sense for adventure? I bet she will."

Malfoy looked Harry up and down in an obviously condescending manner. "Oh, really?"

Leaning back, Harry decided to play a bit with Malfoy. "Yes, really."

They were silent for a few moments but then curiosity prompted Malfoy to speak again.

"If she tells you, will you let me know?" He looked uncomfortable but Harry didn't intent to let him off the hook so easily.

"I don't think so. After all, if _you_ won't tell me your little vision, why should _I_ tell you mine or Trelawney's?"

"Because it was obviously about me, too," said Malfoy angrily.

"In that case you can just stay here and listen," replied Harry, shrugging slightly. "I'm not your messenger boy, in case you have forgotten."

It amused him that Malfoy ground his teeth in frustration; it was high time that he learned that Harry was not a push-over.

"I never said you were," Malfoy ground out. Huffing, he raked a hand through his hair. "It just would have been _nice_, you know."

"Are you trying to play the _guilt card_, Malfoy?" asked Harry with a snicker. "Sorry, but I don't find you cute enough yet to let you get away with it."

A muffled snort from the next table caused Malfoy to blush yet again. "Do you _have_ to say things like that?" he snapped irritably.

"Why? It's the truth." Harry tried to sound wounded and flirtatious at the same time, a thing he pulled off rather well if Malfoy's flushed cheeks were anything to go by. He winked. "But you're headed that way fast. I really like it when you let your hair down."

Two things happened at once then: Ron roared with laughter (and Malfoy's formerly pale complexion now resembled a brick) while Pansy got up from her seat, charged at Harry and slapped him squarely across the face. The whole classroom went silent at once.

"How _dare_ you flirt with _my fiancé_, you men-stealing _whore_!" she screeched. "Keep your hands off him or you'll _regret_ it!"

Stunned, Harry touched his stinging cheek. That girl had a mean right hook, that was for sure!

"Miss Parkinson!" cried Professor Trelawney, her tone scandalised. "One hundred and fifty points from Slytherin for threatening and attacking a fellow student! You will report to Professor Snape, and believe me, I'll hear if you did or not!"

"He threatened _me_!" said Pansy, still in a fury. "He's obviously trying to steal my fiancé! It's in my _rights_ to defend my relationship!" Her pale cheeks were flushed in an angry red and her chest was heaving.

But Trelawney was having none of it. "Silence, young lady! You hit a fellow student and therefore you'll be punished accordingly! Whether or not Mr Potter was 'trying to steal your fiancé' is of no consequence! We do not condone violence at Hogwarts. Are we understood?"

Her steely voice surprised all of the students. Even Pansy looked at her in disbelief.

"And now, off you go. Find Professor Snape and tell him what you did. I'll ask him later what he has decided for your punishment. And you better believe that Professor Dumbledore will hear about this!"

And that was Professor Trelawney's last word. Still snarling, Pansy left the classroom and stomped her way down the ladder. How she managed it no one knew but it was impressive all the same.

"Potter-," said Malfoy, but Harry beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy. Really, I am. I didn't know how serious it was between you two. I'll try to keep it down, all right?" Harry sighed. He took his wand and pointed it at his left cheek.

Eyes steely and face unreadable, Malfoy pushed Harry's wand down with the tip of his own. He then performed a healing charm. Harry allowed it, it felt good, soothing and gentle.

"Thanks," he said softly. "I'm still sorry."

Malfoy put his wand away. "Forget it. She's overbearing. And I'm not, I repeat: _not_ going to marry her." The corner of his mouth lifted in a brief if somewhat crooked smile. "Thank _you_ for protecting my virtue."

Just in that moment Professor Trelawney came up to them, asking if Harry was all right.

"Yes, everything's fine, Professor," he replied. When she wanted to leave, he hurriedly asked, "Professor, may I ask what you've seen earlier?" He pointed at Malfoy and himself. "I mean, you obviously saw us both ..."

"Oh yes, dear, I did, but I fear it wouldn't be right for me to tell," she fluttered excitedly.

Biting his lip, Harry tried to look as interested as he could. "But you see, _Draco_ and I, we are really curious."

Professor Trelawney preened under his inquiring stare. "Are you?" she breathed. "Well, it was very private and I don't know if I would do you a favour by telling you ..."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "If the vision was about ... _Harry_ and I then you can tell us. I doubt it will shock us." His raised eyebrows spoke volumes but obviously his manners forbade him to say more.

Being stared down by two more than curious boys, Trelawney finally caved. "If you're sure ..."

They nodded their consent. Professor Trelawney came closer, so close that Harry could feel her soft breath on his freshly healed cheek.

"In that case ...," she said ominously.

Harry was about to burst from impatience. Eagerly he leaned forward, staring into Professor Trelawney's wet eyes.

"I saw you _kiss_, gentlemen." She took a huge breath of air. "It was a _wonderful_ kiss, and you looked to be enjoying it very much."

"_You_ saw us _kiss_?" asked Malfoy too calmly. His skin was almost white, his face void of emotions. "Merlin help me."

He got up without another word, took his book bag and made to leave the classroom.

Mouth hanging open, Professor Trelawney looked after him.

"Why is he upset?" she asked uncomprehendingly. "I thought you both didn't have a problem with it?"

"Everything's okay. He's probably just going to talk with Parkinson," lied Harry. He was confused himself but he managed to keep his wits together enough to get rid of Trelawney. Blaise and Ron threw him suspicious looks but Harry ignored them in favour of staring into his crystal ball until class was over.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was very loud on that evening. The younger years were still celebrating Hermione's fight with Pansy, while the others who were in the DA did their homework together and practiced the light spells they had studied during the last meeting.

Harry found it hard to concentrate on his homework with all the noise the others were making. He even contemplated going to the library but finally he settled for a silencing barrier around his small table.

But it wasn't only the noise. There was something else that bothered him.

Hermione wasn't with him.

Of course, usually this wasn't a reason for concern but tonight he thought differently about that. She had gone to get a replacement for her burned potions book. Harry wondered when she had gone to the library. Knowing her she had made a beeline as soon as Arithmancy had been over but that had been four hours ago. Considering the fight she had been in earlier it wasn't all that far off to think that Pansy Parkinson might have attacked her again.

Harry nibbled on his quill, pondering the matter until it was time for dinner. Sighing, he packed his things away and followed Ron and Neville to the Great Hall. He hoped that Hermione would be there when they arrived.

The Great Hall was filled with laughter and talk, as usual. Still feeling uneasy, Harry sat down, looking for his friend. Ron, who sat next to him, shovelled food onto his plate and immediately started eating. Harry knew that Ron was just as worried, he just didn't let his worries compromise his appetite.

That thought made Harry smile but it faded and changed into another frown when it became apparent that Hermione wouldn't show up.

"Shit," he mumbled, pushing his plate away and getting up. "Im going to look for Hermione," he said to his friends.

Everybody around him nodded. Neville even offered to come with him.

"No, thanks. If she wants to be alone it would be better if we didn't come as pack," replied Harry with a weak smile. "I'll see you later."

He left the hall and hurried to get to the library. Harry was almost certain that he would find his best friend there but he hurried nonetheless. If something had happened to her he would never forgive himself.

He was deep in thought but not enough not to notice the steps that followed him. When he reached the hallway of the library a few minutes later he whirled around and promptly spotted Ron and Dean who had followed him, despite his declining. They smiled a bit helplessly at him and Harry was touched that they cared so much for Hermione and his wellbeing.

Harry motioned the two boys to stay back and entered the library. It seemed empty at first; the students were in the Great Hall, after all, but Harry silently prowled through the room, carefully looking for hidden persons. Sometimes students came here to snog or simply hide from others and he didn't want to disturb anyone who needed their peace and quiet.

Finally, at the very back of the library, in a dark corner that was lit by only one, tiny lamp, he spotted a lone figure that sat miserably in a large wingback chair.

Of course it was Hermione, he recognised her instantly by her bushy hair.

Harry let out a sigh of relief and went up to her, walking a bit louder than usual so she would hear him and not jump in fright.

"Hullo," she greeted quietly when he sat on the small table in front of her. "Sorry for not showing up."

Smiling crookedly, Harry petted her small hand. "It's okay. Ron and Dean are waiting outside. We were just worried." Changing the topic, Harry pointed to the open book on Hermione's lap. "Some light reading?" he joked. Her drawn face and troubled eyes worried him, and her usually rosy lips looked pale and chapped as if she had bitten them too often.

"Hmmm, more or less," she said tonelessly. "It's my replacement potions book. Madam Pince told me to choose from the stack so I did. It's ... interesting."

Something in her voice and bearing alarmed Harry but he didn't dare ask just yet.

"Oh? I thought you had memorized the textbooks already?" he quipped, smiling so she would know that he was teasing her.

"Of course, but this is ... another edition." Abruptly Hermione closed the book and got up. "Let's go, I'm hungry. And I'm sure the others will want to make sure that I haven't been killed and dumped into a pit."

Harry was almost sure that she wanted to sound ironic but it came out entirely too serious. He stood too and simply took the small girl in his arms before she could vanish again.

"If you want to talk you _know_ that you can come to me, don't you?" he asked, frightened about the weakness in his voice. She _was_ one of his weaknesses but he wouldn't change that for the world.

Wrapped up tightly, Hermione nodded, sighed and hugged Harry back. "I know. I will. Just not tonight."

"S'alright." Stroking her wild hair, Harry allowed his worries to finally ebb away. A great sense of calm washed over him and his heart ached. He _loved_ Hermione, loved her beyond anything or anyone he had ever thought he loved. He couldn't bear to see her so distraught and so alone in her distress. "Come when you're ready."

"Yes ..."

The library was still dark and it still smelled like old books and leather but neither disturbed their embrace. It just felt good to stay like this for a bit longer, to make sure that, if not with the world, at east everything between them was alright. The potions book that was trapped between their bodies felt hard, but not even that could diminish the soothing comfort of their friendship.

**End of part 13**


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